The Belly of The Beast
by BakFanLin
Summary: After Sam's apparent Leap, Ziggy goes into hystrics. Al and the team at PQL work frantically to save the Super Computer, while Sam and Ziggy meet in the etherworld of Artificial Intelligence.


The Belly of The Beast

/Consciousness/

/Awareness/

"Ha! You did it Sam! One hundred percent." Al knocked his hand along the top edge of the Handlink as it squealed in protest. "Both sisters finish high school, and their mother gets her GED and all three go on to Cosmo… Cosmos? The stars?" Al banged on the Handlink again, then he punched in a new command. "Oh, here it is Sam. They go on to Cosmetology School, and open their own chain of saloons." Al did a double take on the message on the Handlink. "Saloons?"

Dr. Sam Beckett grinned. He closed his eyes as a blob of bubbly shampoo lather slid down his face. "Al…"

"Gooshie? What do you mean saloons?" The Handlink squealed and whistled, "Ah, well, that's better. It's salon's Sam. They open a chain of successful salons featuring their own line of hair and skin care products."

Sam squeezed his eyes closed tighter while two giggling teen-aged girls and their mother sprayed water over his head, and all over the kitchen counter top.

"Be still Roy! Who's Al?" Sam squirmed in his chair; his head tipped back uncomfortably in the kitchen sink. The towel wrapped around his shoulders was soaking wet. Sam pulled it out from under his neck, balled it up and buried his face in it.

"I said Oww!" His voice was muffled by the towel, "Ok, I'm ready, just rinse it off please!"

Sam groaned and tried to remember thorough a Swiss-cheesed memory if he was ever the victim if his mother and little sister's antics while the spray of water nearly drowned him through the towel.

When at last it seemed safe to peak out from under the drenched terry cloth, he saw Al bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning at him, "Bye-bye Sam!"

Al saw Sam's hand wave under the plastic trash bag gown as a glowing brilliant blue-white light enveloped them. When it died away Al stood in the middle of the Imagining Chamber deep within the bowels of Project Quantum Leap. The bright white walls stood in stark contrast to his previous surroundings. In a simple, inelegant, but comfortable home and caring family lost between the cracks of society lived the single mother of a confused young man on the brink of adulthood, and adolescent twin girls in danger of falling into a bad crowd.

This was a good Leap for both Sam and Al. The time Al spent in the Waiting Room with young Roy, talking for hours, was like therapy for both.

"Thank you Admiral. I'll always remember you. You've been like a father to me."

"Kid, I'm nobody's father." He had told Roy.

"No matter. Thanks… dad." The Admiral would always remember those words as he shook the young man's hand.

"You'll be going home soon. I want you to take care of your mom and your sisters."

"Yes, sir." Roy made an inexperienced attempt to salute the man standing in front of him in Navy dress whites.

Admiral Albert Calavicci's eyes still had a bit of a twinkle as he walked slowly down the ramp out of the Imaging Chamber. The unlit cigar dangled loosely between his teeth, his lips spread into a smile.

"I see Dr. Beckett Leaped, Admiral."

"Yeah," Al said with a grin. "And none too soon I'll bet. One more testing of 'shampoo sample number eight' and Sam might have drowned!"

"But, that mama, ohhh…she could drown me any day!" Al grabbed the cigar from his mouth and glanced around quickly. "Uh oh, where's Tina?"

"She's out to the ladies room, I believe. Though she didn't elaborate. She just danced out of the control room with a giggle." Gooshie put down a clipboard with data on the massive computer's vital statistics, grimaced a slight frown, and made a mental note to check something later. "Admiral, I believe you take some kind of perverse pleasure in seeing Dr. Beckett in any situation in which he is exceedingly uncomfortable."

Gooshie, the primary programmer for the parallel hybrid computer named Ziggy, busied himself at the control panel. Colorful lights moved around slowly in an oval circle in the lazy pattern it always had when Sam Beckett was in that limbo 'twilight zone' between Leaps.

"Oh, good." Al looked up, and as if addressing the air itself, said, "Ziggy, I want that Leap review report in the morning." He placed the Handlink on the console in front of him, and stashed away the cigar for later pleasure. Suddenly Al remembered the brand name of the shampoo in Tina's shower stall. A glimmer in his eye seemed far away for a moment. Guess they're still in business, he thought to himself.

Al and Gooshie eyed each other with curious suspicion. "Ziggy, can you hear me?" Al said.

Rolling his eyes, Al shouted, "ZIGGY! You screwed up tin can, I said I want the Leap report in the morning!"

Checking circuits, and flipping some switches and running some preliminary diagnostics, Gooshie picked up a printout from a hard copy line printer and said, "Admiral, it appears that Ziggy is just …occupied."

"Well, it better be for a good reason."

The clicking of spike heels echoed as Tina came prancing into the Control Room. Her earrings sparkled with brilliant lights, and the spikes of her high-heeled shoes twinkled in the same color of neon pink. Her skirt gave new meaning to 'mini.'

Al grinned at her appearance. It always gave him a delight he sometimes had difficulty keeping to himself.

"Tina, sweetie, see if you and Gooshie can get the Leap report out of this clunker. Can you do that for me?"

Waggling his eyebrows, he pulled the cigar out of his pocket, rolled it between his fingers, then using a mock comics voice, he said, "And don't be all night. If you know what I mean."

Giggles and clicking heels followed Tina as she leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Al's cheek. As her red hair fell over his shoulders, he reached up and pulled her closer with a handful of her tresses.

Gooshie tried his best to ignore the somewhat public show of affection. The Admiral and Tina rarely made known their very on-again off-again intimate affair. The programmer rolled his eyes in quiet disapproval of how unfaithful the Admiral was to the beautiful systems specialist.

Gooshie had been aware of a time line when in one of Dr. Beckett's history changing Leaps, he and Tina had been married. He sometimes entertained a fantasy when that time line was still a reality. Though he had no memories of those events, it still gave him a physical reaction. Ahh… Tina - brains and body. The easily embarrassed programmer quickly banished the thoughts from his mental wanderings. Gooshie blushed and slightly shaking his head, said, "We will investigate Admiral. I'm sure it nothing. All systems seem to be performing within normal range. You know how Ziggy is."

"Yes, I do know HOW ZIGGY IS!" Cursing under his breath, Al released Tina and kicked the cabinet that housed the main terminal linkage to Ziggy's primary database.

"Ohh…honey bumpkin, take it easy. Ziggy has feelings too." Tina gently rubbed the console that Al had kicked.

"You tell that smart scrap heap she better wake up, or I'll pull her plug." Al looked up in a familiar way that became habit to address Ziggy, "just as soon as I get back!" When no egotistical response came from the supercomputer, Al sneered and turned his attention to Tina, "I'm going into town this evening to pick up some things we might need later. Want anything special kitty cat?"

Tina purred. "No, I'll have all I could ever want. But don't you be too long."

Al winked and popped the damp end of the cigar between his teeth, and groaned a long deep sigh. "No telling how long we'll have, so have to make the best of it."

Before he got away from the Project Control Center, Al placed his hand on the sensor scanner and millions of electrical particles took a digital picture of his palm. Deep within Ziggy's complex array of security software, anagram programs identified his security clearance and allowed him to enter the Waiting Room.

In the Waiting Room he found what he'd expected to see. Dr. Verbeena Beeks sitting beside the still body of his friend Dr. Sam Beckett. She was fingering the few strands of white hair that incessantly wanted to fall over Sam's eyes.

She didn't turn to see Al, who was standing in the door, "I hate this part. When he's between Leaps. I feel so helpless."

"I know what you mean," Al replied. "Its been so long, but still its hard to understand how for him its instantaneous, Leaping from one to another. But to us, it could be a few hours, or even a week before he lands somewhere." Al shuffled his feet. He remembered how much Dr. Beeks despised his ever present cigar, lit or not, and shoved it back into his pocket. "I'm going into town, you need anything?"

"Ohh…some red wine would be nice. Cabernet sounds good. If you don't mind."

Al tried not to roll his eyes. She knew as well as he did that alcohol was off limits inside the Project. Well, so was his cigar, and he knew it was only payback. "Ok…. I'll see what I can find. Take care of him doctor."

"I always do Admiral." Beeks gently caressed the side of Sam's face, then she tucked in the light blanket covering his thin but muscular body.

/Perception/

/Thought/

Al woke suddenly and lay in his bunk deep in the bowels of Project Quantum Leap. He groaned and stretched, remembering the last week spent waking up with Tina by his side. But this morning she had already slithered out, and whispered she was heading to the Control Room. Al was hoping for news about Ziggy or a Leap from Sam. Gooshie had said that her million gigabyte capacity egotistical brain was operating at a much higher rate for the past several days. Ziggy was perfectly capable of rubbing her belly, patting her head, and doing a trillion floating decimal point operations at once. That is, assuming she had a head, and a belly. Al sneered and thought Ziggy would probably manifest a head and a belly just to spite him and prove she could do it. Al grinned and thought maybe he could throw in 'chew gum' too, and see how Ziggy smoked that.

Later, seated in the Project cafeteria Al leaned back from the table. Crumbs from his lightly buttered toast were all that was left of what he'd consumed of his breakfast. His third cup of coffee, steamed in his hands.

"Good morning, Admiral." Dr. Verbeena Beeks, the Project Psychologist / Counselor and Doctor MD sat next to the Admiral and grinned. "You certainly know how to brighten up the day, don't you?"

"What? This old thing?" Al sat in his glittering finest lame' and moved the matching gold and yellow fedora so Verbeena would have a place to put down her steaming mug.

After a cautious sip from the rim, Verbeena said, "It's been nearly a week. Hope something happens soon. I hear Ziggy has been functioning at high capacity lately."

"Yep, but Gooshie said nothing to worry about. She's not nearly at the maximum… yet. Tina has been working on the processors, adding some extra …something or others. She could explain it better than I could. Sounded all too high tech for me."

"What is Ziggy doing? I know she's not talking."

"I have no idea. But I'm feeling neglected and I intend to find out, and very soon." As Al stood he said, "If you'll excuse me doctor, I am on my way to get some answers. How is Sam?"

"Sam is fine. In that state somewhere between here and … where ever he is between Leaps. It's a good thing young Roy was quite athletic. He got in some good aerobic exercise." Verbeena was eyeing the cooler on the left side of the room, considering a breakfast of frozen waffles. The scent of some toasty, syrupy confections still wafted in the air from someone else long gone from the small cafeteria.

"Umm…. well, you know how it goes. Could be today, could be tomor…"

Al hadn't finished his thought when the lights in the small room went out all at once, leaving him and the doctor in total darkness.

"What the…!" Al stood where he was for a moment, then the clatter of a kicked chair stopped his thought. "Verbeena, stay put. Maybe it's just a glitch. Won't last but a second."

In the corridor, three emergency lights flashed then quickly came to a steady full glow.

"There goes breakfast." In a voice calmer than she expected, the doctor said, "In all my years here, I've never seen a total outage last this long." Dr. Beeks saw the Admiral already picking up the phone at the end of the row of microwaves.

"Gooshie! Gooshie, what's going on? The east end corridor and cafeteria have no power."

"It's not just the east end, Admiral. I believe the whole Project has no power." Gooshie sounded nervous and otherwise occupied, like he was doing too many things at once. He continued with, "Correction, the only power that is on is… Ziggy. And something is wrong Admiral. Ziggy is, well, its like she's having a seizure."

"I'm on my way. Alert all security zones." Al shook his head at his own order. How could security not already know? A glance at Dr. Beeks, and they were both out the door, their shadows bouncing in uneven zigzags as they ran down the corridor toward the Control Room.

At the end of the western corridor, the biggest one in Project Quantum Leap, Al slid to a stop, expecting the scanners to instantly read his security implants and open the door before he crashed headlong into it. Dr. Beeks slid to a halt accompanied by a surprised expression from the Admiral. The backup security panel was dark, but Al slapped his palm against it and waited for it to read his ID. The Control Room, the Accelerator Chamber, and the Waiting Room/MedLab were housed inside this huge complex, and the only way in or out was through this high security door.

Al's concerned look at Dr. Beeks spoke the words they both feared to say out loud. It was taking much too long for the door to open. Something was wrong with Ziggy.

Dr. Beeks said it first, "Ziggy controls security."

"And Ziggy is having some sort of fit." Al yanked the phone receiver hanging by the doorframe so hard the plastic holder broke off and fell, clattering to the darkened floor.

Al waited for someone on the other side to see the signal and pick up.

Standing in eerie shadows made by the emergency lights placed every five meters along the corridor, Admiral Calavicci screamed at the door to open. Dr. Beeks concern for her patient on the other side was growing with each moment. If Ziggy were seizing, what was happening to Sam? Did he Leap? What could he have Leaped into?

When a beep that indicated the phone was active sounded in his ear, Al didn't wait to hear who was on the other side. He took a breath and said, "It's Calavicci and Beeks. Open the door."

"Password Admiral."

Al tried his best to quickly compose himself before answering the security officer on the other side. After all, the password backup was his idea. "Hal and Ziggy, sittin' in a tree… OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR NOW!"

"Uhh, that's it sir…just a moment."

When the heavy door opened the Admiral took a step back and let Dr. Beeks enter first. She ran off in one direction while his attention was drawn to the security guard that opened the door, his gun was in his hand, and ready to fire at anyone entering the door he did not recognize. The burly young man had probably never held his weapon in the line of duty before. But he was doing his job, and that's what counted.

In the dim lighting, Al saw Beeks run to the Observation Level the Waiting Room and disappear inside. He hoped Sam was ok.

A glance at the Corporal and Al took off running to the Control Room. Once there, the frantically spiraling colorful lights stunned him. Now they whirled around like they were caught in a Midwest tornado. Beams of blue-white laser lights shot out from the console panel in all directions. Al hoped they were harmless lights and not live lasers. Even cool lasers could be deadly. When Ziggy's security procedures were enabled, she was capable of defending herself, even if the Project security failed.

Admiral Calavicci saw Tina; her upper half was buried in one of Ziggy's processors. A powerful halogen light being held by a tech working on her team illuminated her. "Tina, are the lasers live?"

"No Admiral." It was Gooshie on the other side of a console in the same cabinet. "Ziggy's not in defensive mode. She's in, uh …more of a 'frantic mode.'

"Her processing levels suddenly jumped up to what we believed to be her maximum levels. Over maximum levels actually. Tina is installing microprocessor chips as fast as she can Admiral. To tell the truth, I'm surprised she hasn't …"

"Don't you even think that Dr. Gooshman!" Tina had come up for another handful of chips and dove back into the bowels of Ziggy's innards in an attempt to keep the supercomputer from shutting down due to maximum processor overload.

"Did Sam Leap Gooshie? Is that what caused this?" Al had taken over the halogen light and shooed the tech away.

Gooshie, his attention on the Imaging Chamber console said, "I don't know Admiral. We lost power and everything is…is, confusing."

"But Ziggy has power! Can't you tell if Sam Leaped?"

"Only Ziggy's processors have power. The part that keeps her 'alive.' The Imaging Chamber and peripheral systems, including the lights are shut down. It's as if it's taking every bit of power and down to the tiniest bit of space Ziggy has just to stay online. We better open the doors Admiral. Even the air circulators are shut down."

"So, if Sam Leaped, we can't find him." Al sagged on the console, but tried to maintain the light where Tina could see what she was doing.

"Admiral Calavicci, Sir. A message from Dr. Beeks. She said to let you know that Dr. Beckett seems to be fine, Sir." The young security officer was in a hurry to deliver his message. His words all spilled out in one breath.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Please tell Dr. Beeks I'll be in to see her and Sam very soon."

"Thank God, Admiral. I was a little concerned about Dr. Beckett myself," Gooshie said with a relieved smile.

Just as mysteriously as they had gone off, the lights in the Control Room came back on with a jolt. The brightness after being adjusted to the dimness of the backup lights was almost painful.

"Ziggy? You there?" Al's inquiry was met with silence.

"Gooshie, we have all lights back?"

Shaking his head in a negative manner, his eyes squinted in concern, Gooshie said, "No, Admiral. Only the lighting and general power is on in the Control Complex. All other area lights are still on battery backup. The generators are running. Emergency procedures kicked in just fine." Gooshie was checking every item on the emergency check off list. And some that were never put there. Ziggy's security prohibited some of them even being put in print.

A sense of unsure relief seemed to fill the room, "Well, that's a start."

"And the air circulators are on too, as well as the cooling system, but only for Ziggy. She's absorbing nearly every watt of power being generated for the entire Project, Admiral."

"Admiral, calls are coming in from every department. They want to know what happened and when the power would be back on." A comp tech in Tina's team manned a communications console.

"Tell them to take a wild guess." The Admiral added, "They know emergency procedures. Ask them if they can follow directions!"

"Yes, Sir."

_A scream, but no voice._

_Pain with no feeling._

_Fire without being consumed._

_Stillness in rushing madness._

_Flooding rivers of information, but not words._

_Tingling sensations of electric current going on and on forever, reaching further and further away, but still so close._

_Masses of confusing data but compartmentalized and organized to the most minute detail._

Falling Fear 

_Sleep, but no dreams._

_Calm, but no rest._

_Comfort, but no warmth._

Admiral Calavicci directed his attention back to the cabinet, "Tina? How is it going?" Al waited several seconds but when he didn't hear a reply he spoke louder and sharper, "Tina!"

"I'm very busy, Al. What I'm doing is kind of important right now." She continued working, plugging in more microprocessor chips. "Gooshie, are you still sending null-grep queries? How is the response time?"

Gooshie was working at a console above Tina, keying in commands faster than the Admiral could follow. "RAM has improved three percent…. no, four percent."

"Is that enough? Four percent?" The Admiral wiped a hand across his worried brow.

Tina backed out of the cabinet then skittered across the Control Room and studied a schematic panel illuminated on an Internal Visual Display Terminal. "Gooshie, shut down the Utility Pipelines, the IC Junction Leads, and the entire Variable User Domain."

Tina entered a command and waited, tapping long manicured nails on the monitor frame. Used to instantaneous response, the delay was taxing. "I feel your pain baby, hang on. I'm shutting down peripheral and remote access junctions."

"Commands executing… now. I'm linking Command and Diagnostics execs too," Gooshie turned around and quickly checked another console, "they're going through C-Path Control Structures."

"Good idea. Umm…disable the interface engines; nothing is on the other end anyway. That's all I can think of right now."

Al stood, still holding the halogen lamp, and more confused and worried by the second. "Well? Four percent?"

"We've shut down every non-essential program and truncated or rerouted everything we can for the moment Al. But Ziggy is still in like major distress." Al didn't at all like the worried frown on Tina's face.

"Four percent may not sound like very much to us Admiral, but to Ziggy, it could mean the difference between…" The unfinished sentence accompanied by a one-shouldered shrug and smirk on Gooshies face said it all. "But it may not last very long. She needs more processor capacity."

Tina shook her head, "a million gigabytes, and we need more space! What in the world is Ziggy doing?"

The halogen lamp in the Admirals hand nearly learned to fly before Al managed to bring his frustration under control. His limited knowledge of computer science, coupled with the immensely complicated nature of Ziggy's systems was over his head. "So what happened? I don't understand what could she be processing that is so complex."

Gooshie stepped over to another terminal and said, "Look here Admiral. Its not really so much what Ziggy is processing, it's how much."

Al could see trailing lines of a graph, lines moving up and down, statistics increased exponentially across the entire screen. Power utilization curves, CPU processing stats, and other graphs he couldn't begin to understand.

"Ziggy's primary database has increased, but I can't say how much. The charts are off the scale." Gooshie was shaking his head. "She's literally processing more information than she has physical capacity for. Logically, that's impossible. Even for Ziggy."

"It looks like some of that data is being migrated to other sites in the database. Even into backups and removable storage. Communication lines are buzzing too, there is data streaming in and out. Mostly out. Ziggy is cannibalizing herself Admiral. She's sacrificing everything… anything." Tina was watching the IDVT screen, only to have it go dark as if its plug was pulled. "See what I mean?"

Gooshie's eyes brightened as he had a thought. "The redundancies on the Imaging Chamber. I don't think Ziggy can get to it now; it's all powered off."

Tina considered the possibilities. "We could copy them then utilize that space."

"Yes! But it could take hours to do the copies. With the Utility Pipelines shut down, maybe longer. There's no time," Gooshie pulled off his lab coat and rolled up his sleeves, "we have to dump it. That four percent is down to three point three."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Al was taking in everything they had said, but understood very little of it.

"I'm sorry Al." Tina seemed sincere. "This time it's our turn. You've saved Dr. Beckett countless times. Now it's up to us to save Ziggy."

Al tipped up the halogen lamp and tried to gaze into its patterned silver reflection plate. The bulb was still on, and its bright glare was painful, even in the normally bright lights in the Control Room. Slowly, methodically, with deliberate movements, Al switched off the light. "I'm going to see Sam. Keep me updated… please."

Al placed the lamp on a cabinet and turned toward the Waiting Room.

Day One

/Variant/

/Random/

"You need some rest Al. Why don't you go get a quick nap? I'll sit here with him."

"Is that a professional observation doctor?"

"I could make it one. It's been nearly twenty-four hours. Gooshie and Tina both say Ziggy is as stable as she's going to get under the circumstances."

"We might get something from Ziggy about Sam's Leap."

"Do we know if he Leaped or not? Even if he did, can you go to him? The Imaging Chamber is darker than the desert night."

The 'him' Dr. Beeks referred to slept peacefully, oblivious to the tension around him. Dr. Sam Beckett, in the physical sense, was never very far away, but what made Sam 'Sam,' even when inhabited by a Leapee seemed to be missing. Right now more so than ever before.

Scrubbing his eyes with his knuckles, Admiral Albert Calavicci felt anything but in command. "Yeah, I need to go for a walk at least. I've dodged the calls from everyone else as long as I can get away with." Al stood up, still watching Sam sleep.

"You probably ought to make a run to the cafeteria too. Eat what's in the freezers. The generators in there will probably be the first to go." Al twisted his back and stretched his arms over his head.

"I will if you will."

"That's blackmail doctor."

"Yes, it is."

Dr. Beeks claimed the stiff backed chair Al had just vacated as he made his way out of the Waiting Room. "Yikes. I don't know about you Sam, but I think that freezer stuff can just melt as far as I'm concerned." The Doctor often spoke to her patient while she moved limbs and extended muscles. Then after massaging Sam's scalp, neck, and shoulders, Verbeena massaged his arms, "Ok, maybe not the waffles," then she slowly kneaded the muscles down his entire body.

"Support divisions in the Project will have to operate at a seriously reduced capacity. Generators simply cannot keep every workstation up and operating. Make sure all your current work has been saved on local drives." Waving off the flood of questions from every direction, Al continued, "The generators are meant as an emergency backup, not business as usual!" The Admiral was getting the impression that these people just didn't understand the concept of 'power outage.'

After several minutes of repeating the same message over and over again to different department heads, he stood up on a chair and shouted, "All non-operative systems will be down until further notice! If you can't work…go home! Further contact will be made through your immediate superiors!" As he stepped off of the chair, in an almost forgetful manner, he added, "Memo's will be posted."

Several questions of 'is the computer all right,' or 'what about Ziggy?' came from department heads. The Admirals standard answer: "Ziggy is functioning."

Al stood in the shadow filled corridor, at a junction between 'this way,' 'that way,' and the way he had come. He wasn't having a good deal of luck deciding which way to go. This way led to the lower levels, and the Control Complex. That way was senior staff offices and eventually to staff quarters, and his bunk. The past full day had been more emotionally and mentally stressful than physically exhausting, but still Al felt like he'd dragged in last in a grueling marathon.

The Admiral guessed he had gone 'that way' when he found himself sitting in Sam's office. The darkened room in deep shadows created by the emergency lights held bittersweet memories of brighter days at Project Quantum Leap. Soon Al dozed. He dreamed of Beth. She was Leaping in time, lost and calling his name.

Primary Control personnel and a squad of Security officers that remained on site sat or browsed around a long table moved into the Control Complex from the darkened and useless cafeteria. Tina carefully placed some cold cut sandwiches and chips and a variety of dips on each end to give everyone easy access.

Behind her, Ziggy's main consoles were alive with activity, lights flashing and harmless laser lights cut through the air, as if searching for a way out. The kaleidoscopic display was hypnotizing.

"Earth to Verbeena." Al's hushed voice almost echoed through the cavernous space. Al had to touch her arm to break the spell the dizzying lights had on the Project physician.

She blinked and turned her attention away from the spiraling display. "I think if she would scream in pain, or show some symptom I could treat it would be easier to take than this. Just talk to me!" Verbeena waved her arms in a sweep to encompass the physical entity of Ziggy. "Of course, I don't even know if she feels anything… or ever did."

"Believe me, she screamed all right. Just not in a way you would recognize." Gooshie carried a stack of printouts and data chips as he made his way past the Admiral and doctor.

Choosing a seat at the table, Gooshie picked up a paper plate and proceeded to fill it with sandwich wedges and chips.

Turning towards the table, Admiral Calavicci announced, "Ok, everybody, lets get this underway." The meeting-slash-dinner quickly attracted those in the Control Complex to gather around and take seats.

After a half hour of muttered requests, courteous nods and unappetizing food consumed with half-hearted enthusiasm, a phone rang on Ziggy's main console. Being closest to the cabinet, Tina stepped over and picked up the receiver, "Control room, Tina, can I help you?"

"Hello?"

"Hello? Anyone there?"

Tina held the receiver up, looking at it like it was a foreign object, shrugged and placed it back into its cradle. "That's the second time that's happened. So odd. But it's not the only weird thing going on from what I've heard."

"I understand the lights are going off and on all night last night and today too, in just about all areas all over the Project," Al said.

Verbeena added, "And one of the techs said when he checks the pharmacy lab he finds every light on. He swears they were off when he leaves, every time."

"Phones in Security office sometimes ring too, and no one is there when they are answered. It's been happening all over - in the Control Room, in the Ladies Lounge, in the cafeteria, and on stat phones on every level." A com tech at the head of the table announced.

"Like what kinds of things?" The Admiral asked. "Anything else? Anything. No matter how small… lets get it out."

"I don't know if its part of the events going on, but the coffee pot in the Communications Office started up by itself too. It just made a heck of a pot of hot water… there were no grounds in the basket, but the on-off switch wasn't even on."

"Admiral, there is more. Late last night, I wasn't on duty but one of the guys from the Security team that was topside, uh, told me one of them came down to the cafeteria looking for munchies, uh," the young man looked up and noticed he had everyone's attention. "Uh, before the generators quit." After a quick breath, he continued, "Um… they said the guy put his coins in the candy vending machine then stood there looking at it. Umm, couldn't make a decision I guess." His mouth gone dry he licked his lips. The young officer was more at ease with a gun in his hand than speaking to his commander.

"Is this getting somewhere?" Al recognized the young Corporal who held the gun when he and Verbeena came running into the Control Room yesterday.

"Uh, yes, Sir, they said he said…. uh, that the machine just started spewing out everything in it. Everything Sir. They gave me three Butterfingers."

Al rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Are these events due to or related to Ziggy's current state?"

"I don't think so Admiral," Gooshie pushed away his paper plate and leaned back. Picking up his Think Pad, he scrolled through several pages of notes. Ziggy's activity has stabilized. There haven't been any significant changes in the past couple of hours.

"Sometimes, on occasion, she has taken some liberties with environmental settings in the Project, but considering her current state, I doubt Ziggy would have the capacity to make much of any impact right now."

Gooshie stood, and taking in a deep breath, said, "Right now, it looks like much of Ziggy's programming is… gone." There were several audible gasps of breath at that announcement. "But, something has taken its place. The data stream I do not recognize, but its very active and becoming more organized."

A glance at Tina and she continued, "I agree. The data that has apparently replaced Ziggy's primary programming is very complex. I hate to admit it, but it's beyond anything I've ever seen before. It could be a latent program placed there by Dr. Beckett, umm, in the event that something happened to him. But, until we are able to determine just exactly what it is… we're in the dark…. just as much as the rest of the Project."

Al stood as well, leaned forward and placed both hands on the edge of the table. His memory dredged up a terrifying thought about a Leap some time ago when another Leaper and Sam clashed and Al found himself face to face with… himself. It was an evil twin tricking Sam and trying very hard to bring Sam to no good end. And another time when Sam met 'the evil Leaper.' Was it possible that Lothos or Zoey had gotten into Ziggy? No. Al shook his head to clear the awful thought, but still, a sour feeling was starting to grow in his stomach… and he didn't think it was the result of his dinner.

"Gooshie, can you tell what whatever the data is in Ziggy is doing, or what Ziggy is doing with it?" The Admiral didn't understand his own question; much less believe the programmer would.

"Right now Admiral, I think it best to just let Ziggy handle it. There is evidence that the data is still being moved around. Some is being truncated, while other parts are being streamlined and brought into the primary processors. As long as this is still in progress, I think the less we intervene, the better."

"All right. Let me know if there are any other developments."

As Al was turning to leave the area, Dr. Beeks joined him and said, "Come with me Admiral. Time to check on our sleeping scientist."

At Sam's bedside, Al said, "Is he really just sleeping Verbeena? Where is Sam? Is there someone in there, trying to get out? Or do we hope he… or she can't?"

"I assume that's a rhetorical question."

"Yes. Maybe, I don't know." Al breathed in and pushed out a deep sigh. "Good night Doctor. G'night Sam."

The confused psychologist and concerned medic in Verbeena Beeks watched the Admiral slowly walk out of the Waiting Room, pause at the door, then without looking back, disappear outside.

Day Two

Al sat in the worn leather chair, leaned back and tried putting his feet on the desk, but it was too far away. He'd never really changed anything in The Hole, the place he came to call Sam's office many years ago. Sam's long legs would have easily reached the desk. Al let his head fall back, resting on the thick padding of the chair, closed his eyes, and tried to visualize Sam still here. His enthusiasm bubbling over with the discovery of a new particle of technology that made his dream of time travel closer to a reality. Sam's smile and glimmer in his eyes had been the focal point of why Al had gotten so captivated by the dream too. Sam's determined and cocky assuredness got Al excited about something that, somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was laughing at him for believing in the impossible.

Al barely heard the phone on Sam's desk as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. It rang. When he roused enough to recognize the gurgling ring tone, it made his heart jump into his throat. That phone hasn't made a sound in years. Since before Sam had made that first Leap.

Al let it ring three times before he picked up the receiver, brought it to his ear and listened.

"Al? Al…it's me. It's Sam. I'm here." The voice sounded confused.

"Sam?"

"Yeah. I'm here Al. I'm here. I'm in Ziggy."

"In Ziggy? Sam, where are you? What happened? Did you Leap somewhere?"

"Yes. I Leaped. I'm here. In Ziggy. Turn on the computer monitor on the desk and you'll see."

With a soft click an image of Sam's head appeared slowly on the screen as it gained resolution.

"Sam, I don't understand. What happened? Where are you?"

"I can't explain it Al. Not really. But you can hang up the phone now. I don't think we'll need it. Be sure the speakers are turned on. It would probably be easier to show you."

Al watched the image on the monitor move in a careful and stiff manner. A hesitant voice came from the speakers on each side of the screen. It was Sam's voice. Al slowly replaced the phone receiver in the cradle, came to his feet, his mouth hanging open, still not believing what he was seeing and hearing on the computer screen.

"You mean you're here? You're in… in Ziggy? Like, inside?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking. It's hard to explain."

"I'll bet it is!"

"Al." The image of Sam grimaced on the screen as if in pain. "This is not easy to do. It takes a lot of concentration."

"I'm sorry Sam. Is there anything I can do for you? Can I get you anything?"

The image of Sam wavered a moment, almost faded away, but popped back just as quickly.

"I don't think so Al, I can't stay long. I've been trying so hard to make contact. I wasn't even sure it would work. I'm still learning so many things. Ziggy's sensors said you were here, and somehow I remembered the phone number … 5-5-5-2-2-3-1."

"Sam, was that you when the phones were ringing and no one was there?"

"Yes, most likely. I was just dialing random numbers. I never knew where the extensions were until someone answered. Then I couldn't get the words to work. It's so new to me Al." Sam's image grimaced, with a look of pain his face. "I have to go now. I'll be back here as soon as I can."

"Sam? Sam! What is going on?"

Al stood before the monitor screen as it went black. He slowly started sinking down, then his knees finally failed to control his descent. Al fell the last few inches, his backside crashing into the leather chair, its rollers sending it careening into the credenza behind him. The fluorescent lamp perched there nearly crashed to the floor.

Thinking aloud, Al said, "Is this even possible? 'I'm in Ziggy?' What the hell… the processors…. maximum levels… Ziggy panicked. Oh, my God. Ziggy's programming replaced with…" In a rush, frightening understanding dawned on Al. He leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the desk to pull himself closer to the monitor, only to have the lap drawer come open to reveal a notepad that had little yellow smiley faces in the bottom right hand corner. In Sam's distinctive penmanship was a scrawled memo, 'Call Washington in AM. No way -- not gonna happen Weitzman.' The words were all underlined twice, with an artistic exclamation point under the lines. Sam had doodled an arrow though the smiley face and a dribbling bullet hole between its eyes.

The Admiral pressed closed his eyes, slowly pushed the drawer closed, and pulled the chair toward the desk. Remembering that night when Sam Beckett first Leaped, you never made that call did you Sam?

Pulling in a deep breath, Al opened his eyes. It took a few seconds to focus on the desktop image of a red and blue ball bouncing between the margins of the monitor. Grasping both sides of the screen, he said, "Take it easy kid. Ziggy? Ziggy! You take care of him! Do you hear me! YOU HEAR ME?"

Sitting in silence and a dark office, Al picked up the phone and punched in the code for the Communications department.

With no preamble the Admiral said to the head of Communications, "Senior Staff meeting in the Control Complex, twenty minutes."

Al never heard the snapped reply of "Yes, Sir," as he left The Hole and headed to the Control Room. He needed to see Ziggy.

Half an hour later, fifteen members of Project Quantum Leap, senior department heads and a team from the Security Department either sat or stood, shuffling feet, fidgeting hands or otherwise trying not to appear as confused or worried as they felt. The Admiral had been sitting at a desk, staring into its dark screen for several minutes. It was unusually late to call a staff meeting, but lately the clock hadn't had much meaning.

"Admiral, Department heads are present, Sir."

"Um, yes, thank you Corporal." Al stood, and walked around to the front of the desk, raised his left hip just high enough to sit one cheek on the corner.

Looking up, straight into the expectant faces before him, he pulled in a shaking breath and said, "Condition Code Blue. Exception Rule One – B."

"Condition Code Blue, Sir?" Gooshie repeated. "Umm… that's Terminal Project Lockdown… and the Rule, Umm… Rule One applies to Ziggy only…"

Tina was scribing some notes into a tiny Pad while she was thinking aloud. "Rule One dash B … all of Ziggy's communications macros remain online outside of Lockdown protocols."

"Yes, exactly." The Admiral stood, in total military mode, protecting Ziggy, and protecting Sam.

"Gooshie and Tina, select three from each of your teams, Verbeena, as many as you need for Sa... for Dr. Beckett. Security divisions, maintain full compliment. All other personnel evacuate." For the benefit of the clerical and support divisions, the Admiral added, "until further notice." Turning his attention to the back of the group, Al said, "Security," the uniformed attendees snapped to full attention, "Execute Code Blue immediately. That's all. Dismissed."

Al returned their salutes as the five security officers filed out of the Control Complex.

Several raised hands and a chorus of "Admiral?" sang out from the group. Division leaders and department heads alike no doubt had a litany of 'whys' and 'how longs' …and other questions Al could not or would not answer. Being non-military for the most part, they didn't necessarily have the discipline to just follow instructions or orders. "I said that's all. Dismissed."

Some frowns and grumbles of disagreement followed each scientist, computer expert, or doctor out the area. Each one working out specifics to make an announcement of the Lockdown to their own division personnel, both onsite and off, and prepare to secure their inoperative equipment.

"Hold on a minute, Doctor, Is Sam all right?" Verbeena was the last one to head for the door.

"I'm glad we have a minute to talk. I have moved him to the MedLab." Dr. Beeks held her memo pad close to her breast. "I'm starting to be concerned with his heart rate and respiration. Brain wave activity is slowing too. My professional observation is that whoever Sam Leaped into is in a very deep unconscious state."

The Admiral wasn't sure how to respond. "Doesn't make sense. How can Sam help someone in that condition?"

"Sam can wake up. However, our Leapee, if that is in fact who we have, he or she would appear to be in a seriously compromised condition. If his vital signs continue to decline, life support may be necessary. Whatever happened that put him, or her into this condition may have occurred at the same time Sam Leaped, and could be what sent Ziggy into that state of panic. Also, Admiral, considering all possibilities, whatever it was…" Verbeena shook her head from side to side, "may have happened to Sam too."

"I'm sure you'll do everything you can." The doctor's words felt like a stab from a hot poker into Al's heart. Sam was here, and not here? In Ziggy, but in MedLab too? Leaping was hard enough to digest, now this!

"I'd never presume to second-guess your orders Admiral, but isn't Condition Code Blue a tad over dramatic? What if we get an answer on Sam's Leap? Won't we need the support staff?"

"Under current conditions, no. Code Blue will release those personnel that can't work anyway. I don't want Weitzman and his Committee in here either. Verbeena, I think Ziggy and Sam are in more trouble than we can see." Al looked up at the tall dark woman and tapped the side of his head.

Al considered options, then said, "Come with me, there is something you should know, and here is not the place to discuss it."

Following the Admiral, they were both soon in MedLab, in the Doctor's cramped office. A large window on the only wall not covered with pinned and taped documents, was a clear view of the bed where Sam Beckett lay.

Quietly closing the door, Verbeena turned and said, "Ok, Admiral. What is it that I should know? Is it about Sam?"

"Yes. He Leaped. I know where he is." Al shuffled his feet, and was glad there wasn't a place to sit. He doubted he'd be able to.

"Uh huh, where? How can you tell?"

"He's here Verbeena. Sam is here, he Leaped," a deep breath released in a sigh, and Al tried to make sense of what he was saying. "What I mean is, Sam is here."

"You mean he Leaped into someone in the Project?"

"Yes."

A surprised look from Verbeena soon spread out into an amused grin. "Well, that's a first. I guess. Oh, wait; is this like 'in the past,' for the Project? Are you …" She grabbed Al's arm and squeezed it, "no, you're real. Not a hologram. Besides the Imaging Chamber is offline."

"No, its not the past… this is real-time. This is the here and now. And Sam is here, and now." Al was watching Sam on the other side of the glass. His chest moving up and down in a slow rhythm.

"Ok, umm… I'm not sure I understand then. Sam Leaping into someone in the Project isn't so far fetched. Apparently someone here may be in trouble, or about to make a decision that was… or will be a mistake."

"That's a possibility, and considering the condition Ziggy is in now, that's a very scary thought."

Verbeena stood straight up, folded her arms across her breasts, and said, "Albert Calavicci, if you know Dr. Beckett Leaped, and that he's here, then you also know who he Leaped into. Considering the order you just gave, and the limited number of people that there will be left on site, that narrows the possibilities down considerably. I know its not me, and I'm pretty sure its not you."

"Sam Leaped… into, uh…" Al pressed closed his eyes for a moment, turned back to face the physician and said, "Sam Leaped into Ziggy."

"I see." She dropped her folded arms.

Al knew instantly that she didn't believe him. "I've seen him Verbeena. I was sitting in his office, and the phone rang. You know, like it did in the Control Room during dinner. I let it ring a few times before I picked it up. But when I did, it was Sam. He said, 'I'm here Al. I'm in Ziggy'. He said 'I'm IN Ziggy'." He emphasized the word 'in' by forming a circle with his hands.

"You said you saw him?"

"Yes, he said to turn on the computer monitor. When I did, there he was! Sam. In the computer!" Al used both arms and hands to point to the computer monitor on the desk, the keyboard unseen under the clutter of papers and data chips. "He was on the screen. He said he was in Ziggy." Al's hands were flying all over as his gestures became more and more dramatic.

"I don't understand it any more than you do, and I've had a little time to think about it."

"How long? How long have you known?"

"Nearly an hour."

Glancing around in the tiny office, Verbeena was sorry her bigger office in the staff area wasn't available. No power. "Come over here Admiral. Sit."

"No, that's not necessary."

"Yes, it is. Sit Admiral. That's an order."

The Admiral blinked and turned his head slightly askew.

"Humor me."

Al squeezed past her with a frown of defiance. After some squirming and a bit of instruction, he sat in the ergonomic chair meant to keep ones back straight while working at a desk.

"I don't know if I should analyze you or medicate you."

Dropping his shoulders and slumping all that was allowed by the complicated chair, Al said, "Verbeena, I did not imagine it. Sam was there. He said, 'I'm in Ziggy'."

"I'm not doubting you Admiral. At least not entirely…" Verbeena exhaled a short breath, then continued, "Well, ok, I do doubt you. I'm sorry, but is there any possibility that you dreamed it? Did you fall asleep in the office?"

"Well, yesterday I did fall asleep there. But I didn't this evening. No. It wasn't a dream."

"Are you sure?"

Al hung his head, the first two fingers of each hand slowing kneading his temples around in a slow circle. "No, it wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been." He looked up into Verbeena's dark eyes and found warmth there, the kind often offered to the pitied.

Dropping his hands into his lap, he realized the absurdity of what he had just told the staff psychologist. "I wasn't asleep." The words were almost a whisper.

"You're exhausted Admiral. And yes, Admirals are allowed to be human. Even you." Verbeena sat on the edge of the desk and reached out to put her hand on the Admiral's shoulder.

Al wanted to stand and pace, but there wasn't enough room. His knees rested on a padded bar, with his feet dangling comfortably under the seat. She effectively had him trapped in the ergonomic chair.

"He said he would be back as soon as he could. Sam said he would be back."

"Think about this Al. Do you really believe its possible that Sam could Leap into Ziggy?"

"He Leaped into a monkey." Al was trying desperately.

"Chimpanzee. And that was surprising, yes, but we share ninety-nine percent of our genes with the primates." With a animated shrug, she continued, "Ziggy is a computer Al, a programmed machine. Eccentric, yes, but still…"

"Ziggy has Sam's cells."

"Ok. Yes. She does. But, Al, it's just not feasible. Please reconsider. We don't have all the answers yet, and till we do, we have to wait. You fell asleep. That's all there is to it." Bending over slightly to get more level with the Admiral, Verbeena said, "Al, in a light sleep, you enter a REM state where dreams are vivid. You can swear you even feel pain, ecstatic pleasure, and everything in between. We're all worried about Ziggy, and more about Sam. It was a dream Al.

"I don't like what ever is happening here now either. But lets go forward with what we do have. Till Ziggy can give us more to work with, we have to be here, ready to handle whatever it is."

A barely perceptible nod was Al's only response.

"I've learned to trust you Al. There is so much of what Ziggy is that I do not understand or want too. But when what I don't understand starts to interfere with my position as a doctor and a shrink, it scares me. I have a duty to do. If Sam Leaped, whatever happened when he landed sent Ziggy into a state of panic. It's a panic that she is still experiencing but seems to be managing, for the moment. I'd rather not think about those implications. At least not right now."

"I understand Verbeena." Inside Al was shaking. "I don't know what to expect next, but whatever it is… will probably come from Ziggy."

"That's why I work here Admiral. Always the unexpected. Now, about that Code Blue order…"

"It stands." Al pointed out toward the rest of the massive underground complex and said, "There's nothing happening out there. The staff might as well get out. I still believe Sam and Ziggy are in some kind of trouble. If there's a chance there is any danger to the rest of us, the fewer in here, the better."

/Fragmentation/

/Parity/

After excising himself from Verbeena's excruciating chair, Al stood near Sam's bedside. Still trying to shake off his sense of guilt over a fanciful dream. He picked up Sam's right hand, squeezed it in both of his and said, "Hang in there kid. I'll find you, one way or another." Two clear plastics tubes snaked along Sam's left side, then piggybacked on one another before disappearing under a piece of tape on the back of his left hand.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor, whispered murmurs from nearby med techs on constant watch, and the scent of medical sterility seemed amplified to Al's senses.

"Are you ok Al? Verbeena saw the Admiral quickly but gently replace Sam's hand on the covers by his side.

"Yeah, I'm … I'm all right. I better go check on Ziggy." Quickly making his way to the exit, he stopped, turned back and said, "Sam's fingers are cold."

Once outside the doors into the main Control Room for Ziggy's Command Console, Al shuddered. Resting his hands on the console while the colors spiraled around him and laser beams of light shot out at random targets, he tried to rationalize how he could have ever thought or believed that Sam, or anyone, could possibly exist in an electronic virtual state. He laughed to himself hoping that holograms didn't count.

"Admiral? What was that?"

"Huh?" Shaking his head, Al asked, "what?"

"You said holograms didn't… something. Holograms don't what Admiral?"

"Oh, sorry Gooshie. Thinking too loud I guess. It's nothing. Is Ziggy ok?"

Gooshie stepped closer to the console that the Admiral was leaning on. "Excuse me a minute, please."

Al stepped back, "I didn't see you when I came over. Sorry if I'm in the way."

"Nonsense Admiral. I think Ziggy appreciates you being here. See this panel? I was just coming over to let you know when you stood here, the static lines settled down some. When you neared the console, the Bartec Lines went nearly back to normal for a few seconds."

"She knows I'm here?"

"Yes, I believe so. Those lines indicate how stressed Ziggy is. They've been off the scale, but in the past hour or so they have settled down some. Still considerably higher than they should be, but it seems Ziggy took some comfort from your presence.

"It's good to know that she still has some recognition. I believe she knows who and where we are. That is a very good sign." Gooshie pushed his glasses up on his nose, then repeated, "A very good sign indeed," as he continued past the Admiral, he picked up a clipboard and resumed checking Ziggy's systems.

Looking up, Al said, "Ziggy?" He replaced his hands on the cabinet, and spoke in a pleading voice, "Ziggy, if you can hear me, just find Sam. If you could at least track down were he is, when he is… we'll do the best we can from this end. Take care of him Ziggy. And, I know I don't say so very often, well, probably not ever, but, take care of yourself too."

Colors continued to swirl around him, and the laser beams of light still bounced between walls, ceiling and the floor with the same urgency.

"Oh, hi Al. 'Scuze me… I thought you were Gooshie for a second." Tina came up behind the Admiral in a rush.

Al scowled, trying to cover his startled surprise. "Don't do that Tina. You'll make an old man out of me. I nearly dropped my cigar. That's serious."

Waggling her eyebrows up and down, she said, "Never. Neither."

Gooshie came towards them from another panel of system controllers, and said, "Well?"

"Like you said," Tina replied, "Zip, zero, zilch and pretty much nothing."

"Nothing what?" Al was between them.

"Admiral, we've been attempting to bring the Imaging Chamber back online." Gooshie's halitosis was becoming worse. The choices for meals lately probably hadn't helped any. "But, it looks like without a completely independent power source, that won't be possible.

"More than that Al," Tina filled in more data. "The primary programming for the Chamber is not where it should be. Even if we did get some juice in there, there are no directives. Not where they should be, anyway. If Ziggy has moved them, which is likely, since so much has been moved, there's no telling what else is missing. We dumped the Imaging Chamber primary and backups for Ziggy's processors. It would have to come from her core, and the core is… it's not there anymore. It's altogether something else. We have backups of all programming in secure storage, but there isn't anywhere to restore it too. There is not one byte of free space. The Handlink is another matter." Tina scrunched up her lips into a frustrated pout.

Looking back and forth between Gooshie and Tina, Al asked both of them, "Is Ziggy still Ziggy? Or is she someone else?"

"Admiral, I believe," Gooshie's hesitant voice sounded calm and reassuring, "that Ziggy is still there. She's in an altered state, to say the least. Ziggy is functioning. She's still with us. What has happened, I can't say, but, I'm confident that as soon as she can, she will tell us."

Tina huffed out a breath, waved her arms in the air, and declared, "Its all like a big headache…without a head! But, yes, Ziggy is still here, somehow." Tina indicated the columns of laser light as they skittered across the entire Control Complex. "They could have just as easily been high intensity and deadly, but they're not. Ziggy's had a hysterical fit, but she's better now. Not great, but better."

Tina reached over and patted the main command entry console. "There, there Ziggygirl. We got 'cha babe. You just hang on."

"Thank you… both of you. I think I was starting to have hallucinations." Al said as he moved out of the Control area. "I think I'll go get some rest. And as before, any changes, good or bad, I want to know."

Al hardly remembered the corridors of Project Quantum Leap as he undressed and fell into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams.

Day Three

"Good morning doctor. You might as well join us if you can. Is Dr. Beckett all right?

Tina grabbed the bottom of her chair and hopped it over a few inches, making a little more room on the end of the table. The rest of the staff on site either sat or stood around the Control Complex, drinking coffee and munching on breakfast finger foods.

"Thank you. Is the Admiral here yet?" Verbeena pulled back a chair, but didn't sit. Her eyes searched around the area.

"I don't think so, but I just got in myself." Tina picked at the corner of a cinnamon roll.

"Sam is getting weaker. It's been a long night." Verbeena pushed back the chair then said, "Thank you, but no. I'd better get back to MedLab." She picked up a raisin bagel and a container of orange juice from a bucket full of ice and quickly returned from where she had come.

"Morning." Al was near Sam when she re-entered the area. "I'd ask, but I think I can see. He looks pale Verbeena."

"It hasn't been the best of nights." She put down her breakfast, and immediately forgot about it. Attempting to hide a yawn, she said, "I ho… you go... ome slee…"

With a bemused look, Al responded, "Yes, but I think you need some more."

Quickly turning off the yawn, she shook the cobwebs out of her brain. "Scuze me. Yes. Just some would be good. I'll nap later if I can." Verbeena busied herself by adjusting the pillow scrunched under Sam's head, and pulled a second light blanket up and tucked it closely around his arms. An oxygen mask over his mouth and nose needed repositioned even if it didn't seem so. Verbeena continued to fuss over her patient for several minutes. Al watched her with curious concern.

"Tell me Verbeena."

"I'm sorry, Al. Um… Tell you what?"

"Tell me what you are working on not telling me."

"Al," she exhaled a breath in a huff, and pulled at the stethoscope hanging around her neck. Gazing down at Sam, his skin pale, his breaths becoming more shallow with each passing hour, Verbeena quickly turned and said, "Not here, I doubt it, but if he can hear us…." She pulled the Admiral back into the small office.

"Please don't ask me to sit in that contraption again." Al stood in a corner, his back to the window.

That enticed a grin from the physician, "No, its really not all that great is it?"

Shaking is head negatively, Al said, "Where did you get it anyway?"

"It was a gift from my mother. She's always telling me to sit up straight. She says, 'you're tall little girl, be proud of it.'"

The small-talk banter faded away, and Al and Verbeena stood on opposite sides of the cramped space. Al fidgeted with his cigar, unlit, but a comfort to have in his hands. Verbeena folded her arms across her grumbling stomach.

"What is it Verbeena?"

"Al," Verbeena cleared her throat, and started again, "Admiral, there are some rumors starting up. Not very loud, and I'm not going to tell you from who, but they have a point." Not allowing the Admiral to interrupt at this time, she held her hand up and continued, "We are a small staff now, in smaller quarters, so what happens to Ziggy and to Dr. Beckett is common knowledge. We are not hiding behind SOP or a need-to-know basis. Ziggy is seriously compromised. Gooshie says she's functioning, but functioning to do what? Her programming is gone! Sam is losing ground by the minute. You saw the difference in him from just last night. It keeps on like this, he'll be on full life support in a day, two at most."

The furrow in the Admiral's brow grew deeper with each of the physician's words. Al's gaze drifted from the staff doctor to the view out the window. He waited, hoping she would say something else, but when she didn't, what she didn't say echoed like thunder.

"I can't Verbeena. Not like this." Al's very conservative attire reflected his feelings. Black on black. "I'd assumed one day Project Quantum Leap would come to an end, but not like this. I don't know how really, Ziggy being taken over by the Committee, Sam home. But, never like this." The pain in his voice was unmistakable.

Verbeena's silence, the hum of the power emanating from Ziggy and the rush of blood in his ears from the pounding of his heart was all that Al could hear.

The Admiral continued to stare out the window. A med tech was hanging an IV bag of glucose for Sam. Another found Verbeena's forgotten breakfast and held it up for her to see. She waved a 'no' and the tech claimed it for her own. Al twirled the cigar between his fingers so long the wrapping started to unravel on one end. Al frowned and stuffed it into his pocket. Maybe it was salvageable.

With nearly a whispered voice Verbeena said, "Since Sam is unavailable, only you have the authority to declare the Project unviable."

Al felt a physical pang stab him. "He's alive Verbeena. He's still alive!" Al angrily pulled open the door, almost closing the physician behind it. She moved to the side as Al went through the door. He turned back, his hand up, pointing his finger in the doctors face, "Sam is alive Verbeena. Gooshie says Ziggy is still here! The Project is still …viable!"

Al tried to control is emotions as he left MedLab. He made no comments or eye contact with anyone as he exited the Control Center. He nearly stumbled over the security officers at the main door to the Complex. They hurriedly opened the door and Al dashed out.

Once the door was closed, Al found himself alone in the darkened corridor. He ran the length of two emergency lights, and stopped. Leaning against the walls carved into the New Mexico desert mountainside, he pounded his fists into the cool panels along the sides. "NO! NO! NO!" Al screamed. Feeling dizzy, he leaned over, put his hands on his knees, hung his head down, and hoped the wave of nausea would pass.

Finally able to find his balance, Al leaned his back on the wall, closed his eyes and refused to pray. Kicking the panel behind him he stood up, and with clinched fists, he started walking in no particular direction. Just walking. The maze of corridors, all dimly lit by naked halogen bulbs every few meters streamed past while Al walked in a daze. Around in circles, up and down metal stairwells, past dark offices, empty suites, and unusable labs. The cold in the depths of the Project, carved more than ten levels below the surface was seeping into his bones. Cramming his hands in his pockets, he found the abused cigar, twisted the loose end of the wrapping, pulled it off, then, finding a match in his trouser pocket, he lit it. Inhaling deeply, and slowly allowing the smoke to escape, he treasured its sultry flavor.

Continuing down the corridor, he found a stairwell and climbed up the double L-shaped steps. Going up he stopped at a door marked 'Hardhat Required - Construction Zone.' That's an old sign Al thought. He pushed open the door and found himself in a corridor and directly across from him was another door with no markings. It looked as though it had been put there as a second thought. Testing the knob, Al found it wasn't locked, so Al pushed it open… and came into Sam Beckett's office.

"What the hell?" Al grinned. He was in the back of the two-roomed office, between a row of file cabinets and a blueprint table. "Why, you sly devil. What is this? An escape route? Escape from what? Wait… maybe it's a secret route to the cafeteria. Or a shortcut to the Control Center."

Al felt as though he'd stumbled in on a friend in a compromising position. If Sam had wanted Al to know about the unmarked door in the back of his office, he would have told him. Al made sure the door was securely closed and went to the front of the office.

Not sure how long he had roamed the corridors, long enough to feel it in his back and legs, Al sat at the desk. The soft leather chair enveloped and caressed him. Exhaling a deep breath, Al continued to enjoy the cigar till it was a stub. It wasn't till then he noticed a lamp on a small table had a soft glow, lighting the office in dim shadows.

"Let there be lights." Confused, Al got up and quickly exited out the front of the office, checking other areas nearby and found them to be all dark and quiet. Turning around in circles, Al said, "Huh. That's damned odd."

Making his way back into the lighted office, dim though it was, Al returned to the desk and sat. Leaning his head back on the chair, he mentally tried to shake off the memory of his recent exchange with the good doctor. And a really good doctor she was, Al had to admit. She wouldn't make any assumptions or say anything unprofessional, especially when it concerned the Project, and Dr. Beckett in particular. Did she really believe it was time for him to make a decision concerning the future of the entire Project?

Al squeezed his eyes closed while his mental argument continued. Was she just trying to prepare him in case it was a real possibility? So many things flowed through Al's mind, bouncing off his fear, and his anger. Words he should have said, words he shouldn't have said. And the vision of Sam, pale, while various medical monitors and equipment gathered around him one piece at a time as he continued to fail.

A light flashed, but through his mental debate and closed eyes, Al hardly noticed. "Al? Al, I'm glad you came back."

All at once, Al jumped back to awareness, nearly falling out of the chair. A gasping intake of breath nearly choked him. Al coughed, trying to speak, but it came out more of a sputtered rasp of sounds. He grasped the sides of the monitor, twisted it around both ways a few inches, and then slapped his hands on the sides of his own face. "I'm awake. Aren't I Sam? I'm awake, and you are really here… you're on the monitor? Right? Uh, you're really here? Oh, Boy!" Al jumped up and ran to the door, but turned around quickly, nearly tripping himself. "Wait Sam! Don't go anywhere! Sam?"

"Al… come back Al. Don't go." Sam's pleading voice brought Al back to the desk.

"I've got to tell Verbeena. She said I …It was a dream Sam. I knew it wasn't a dream!"

"No Al. Wait. Don't tell…" Sam's appearance shifted on the monitor, then skewed sideways, but righted itself seconds after. "Don't Al, ok?"

Al sat. He pulled open the lap drawer on the desk, and there it was. The little yellow smiley face pad with the arrow and bullet hole was right where he remembered them to be. "It wasn't a dream Sam!"

"No. I'm not sure yet, though. More like a nightmare. Don't go Al. Please. I need you here now." The image of Sam's head and only a bare inch of his shoulders appeared on the screen.

"All right Sam. I'm here." Al pulled himself closer to the monitor, as if to be closer to Sam.

"Where have you been? I've been hoping you'd come back in the office." Sam seemed relieved to see Al, like a burden had just been lifted.

"Oh, Sam. I'm so sorry. I… we've all been so worried about Ziggy, and you. Things are all little ca-ca around here. And then, well… I…. Sam, I thought it was a dream. An elaborate and crazy dream! I came this close to blowing it all out of proportion." Al showed a small space between his thumb and index finger. "Then this morning, I …I did anyway." Al appeared ashamed of his outburst and exit from the MedLab.

The image on the monitor continued to show static lines and a skewed picture, but seemed to grow more stable as time went by.

"Sam, you really are in Ziggy aren't you?"

"Yes."

Al stared at the image on the screen, and watched the familiar face looking back at him. "Can you see me? I'm at your desk in your main office."

"Yes, I can see you. The office and Control Complex are the only places I, or anyone had to communicate directly with Ziggy. There is a button camera in the base of the monitor. You might not even be able to see it. I put it there so Ziggy could learn more as I spoke to her while installing her Basic Language Programs."

A smile spread across Al's features. "Its like Tron."

"Tron?" Sam asked, "who's Tron?"

"Oh, sorry Sam. It's a sci-fi movie from …oh, years ago. Some guy, fictitious of course, got caught up in, uh, I think it was a video game." Al rubbed his eyes, "Silly movie." Al laughed, "The guy couldn't make ninety-degree turns."

"I guess I missed it."

"You were lucky."

"I don't think this is Tron."

"No, I guess not." So many questions poured through Al's mind, he didn't know where to start. "Its good to see you Sam. I thought we'd lost you. The Imaging Chamber is offline, I had no idea if you'd actually Leaped or not, and no way to find you. Ziggy is … out of her mind Sam."

"She's not out of her mind. I'm just …in it."

"Any idea why? Is it God, Time or Whoever's idea of a bad joke?"

"Its no joke, that's for sure. I don't know Al. I'm hoping it all becomes clear soon. Ziggy is still in trouble, but she's managing better."

Sam's eyes closed, as if in concentration. A furrow developed between his eyes. "I think I need to go Al. I had hoped to have more time. Maybe things will get better soon."

Al's concern grew. "Maybe? Sam, do we make appointments to meet here, or what?"

"We can if you'd like. Otherwise, if you're in here, I'll know. But it'll depend on Ziggy's resources. I might have a little while, or just a matter of minutes. Like now. I've got to go Al. Ziggy needs the power I'm using.

"Al…." The view of Sam flashed away leaving a negative image of the quantum physicist burned on Al's eyes. His pleading voice still echoing in his mind.

Al entered MedLab and stood just inside the door, watching Verbeena. She massaged Sam's shoulders and his arms. Even his hands and long fingers, careful to not disturb the needle attached to the IV tubes. He watched as she carefully moved over the blankets and one leg at a time, moved them up, bent his knee, flexed his hips and pulled them down again. She had to know he was there watching her work. When finally she tucked the covers around his body, Al walked slowly toward her and Sam.

"I'm sorry Verbeena. I didn't … hadn't intended to…"

"Come here Al. Closer. Here." She took Al's hand and placed it on the side of Sam's neck, just below his jawbone, then covered his hand with her own.

After nearly a half minute, she said, "Feel that? Yes, he's alive."

Beneath his hand Al felt the regular but slow pulsing beat of Sam's heart. He felt the warmth of his skin, and could hear the faint movement of air beneath the mask.

"I'm sorry too. I hadn't intended to indicate that Sam… that the Project was over." The doctor-slash-psychologist continued to hold the Admirals hand as it was removed from contact with Sam. "I suppose I'm just as guilty. And me of all people. I should know better. We're all a little to close to have the right perspective."

"We've been through so much these past few years. Being close is what keeps us all sane, and gives Sam and Ziggy hope." Al pulled Verbeena closer and embraced her in a hug.

In mock surprise, Verbeena pulled away and said, "Admiral, please, not in front of the other man."

A smile passed between them, and Al knew he was forgiven. Still in shock over his earlier surprise, Al decided at that moment to keep it to himself, at least for the time being. Verbeena had enough on her plate for today.

"I see they have something of a spread out there on the table. Would you care to join me for dinner?"

"Yes, thank you Admiral. I'm starving." Dr. Beeks assigned a tech to sit by the side of Dr. Beckett, took Al by the arm and walked out of MedLab.

"We're supposed to be in Lockdown. Where is all this coming from?" Al was looking up and down the table. Platters of fresh fruit, cut veggies with a variety of dips, cold cut meats and cheeses, crackers and fresh rolls, cold drinks from sodas to bottled water and tea and two urns of coffee spread from one end of the table to the other.

A security guard spoke up. "The order came from a terminal topside Admiral. We assumed it came from you, Sir."

"Order? Explain Lieutenant." Al didn't remember giving any order for a catered dinner.

"The terminal topside, in the Security Shack, Sir. It had an order for what is here. The screen popped on a couple of hours ago with an order to go into town and pick it up. It said the order would be ready for pick-up by the time we got there."

A confused look from the Admiral, and the guard continued, "I can show you the printout if you'd like to see it. It's still in the Shack I'm sure. We assumed it came from you Sir."

A brilliant smile crossed Tina's face. It was like a light went off with everyone at once. "ZIGGY! She's still with us!" Applause and cheers reverberated throughout the Control Complex.

Food, drink and good cheer helped a great deal to make the evening a more upbeat occasion. Still, all around the Complex, lights swirled, laser lights flashed, and Ziggy worked frantically to save him that she held the most dear.

Al sat on the floor at the top of the ramp to the Imaging Chamber. His back leaned against the door, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. Visions of Sam Beckett climbing out of a computer screen kept coming to mind. A voice brought him back to reality.

"Dime for your thoughts, sweetie." Tina cooed as she strode up the ramp.

Al started to get up, but she waved him to stop and made an attempt to join him on the floor. After a couple of tries, she rolled her eyes, and said, "Forget it. You come up here."

Al fretted and thought he'd rather see her attempt to get to the floor. Her spike heels and short skirt would have made one hell of a distraction.

"Dime? Its gone up since I heard last." Al smiled and climbed to his feet instead.

"Yeah, well inflation being how it is and all. Besides, you looked like you were into some pretty expensive thoughts."

Standing near Tina, Al breathed in her scent. He never could quite identify what it was, but it was sensual and sweet. A new cigar in one hand, a paper cup of coffee gone untouched in the other, Al simply leaned in and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Yes, I suppose." Al turned and they both slowly started down the ramp.

"More coffee Admiral?" Gooshie was grazing over the well picked-over buffet table.

"No, thank you. I've had plenty tonight." Al sat the cup he held, coffee turned cold, on the table.

"Are you feeling ok Al?" Tina asked.

"Yeah, Peaches, I'm good. Guess I'm just distracted." Al rubbed the back of his neck, then said, "Uhh, I think I'll turn in, maybe do some reading. Don't wait up for me, ok Sweets?"

Al walked into the swirling colorful lights as they twisted around the area. The laser lights flashed and moved, roaming around the Complex. Verbeena came to Al's side, held tight to his arm and said, "It really is a good sign you know. About Ziggy and the dinner."

Al squeezed her hand, then said, "I hope so. I truly hope so." Using a free arm he waved it out in the way of a laser beam. It passed around him as if he were never there.

"Well, good night." As quickly as he could without appearing to run, he exited the Control Complex.

Al had no idea if Sam would be able to return to the monitor in The Hole again tonight. Suddenly he just felt an urgent need to be here, just in case he was able to return. Sam had said if he was here, then he would know it. Al would just have to wait, that's all. But how long would he have to wait? Would it be tomorrow, or a few minutes from now? Al sat at the desk, staring into a dark screen.

"Sam?"

Nothing.

"Ziggy, can you hear me? Sam… are you there?" Al pleaded.

Dim shadows created by the soft lighting from the lamp pulled at Al. He didn't know how long he sat, waiting for an image to appear, or a shadow to laugh at him. A gentle touch and a whispered voice woke him.

"Al? Al, wake up."

"Huh? Verbeena? What? Is Sam ok?"

"I thought I'd find you here. Yes, Sam's all right… for now. It's late, or early. Depends on your perspective. You'd be more comfortable in your bunk don't you think?"

Confused, Al said, "I'd rather stay here." Sitting up, Al stretched his back. He had been slouched in the chair for too long. "You were looking for me?"

"Actually, Tina was. But that was hours ago. After she asked if I'd seen you, I started to be concerned. I just figured you might be here. There haven't been many times in the past few years when things were a little tough. But each time, you've taken refuge here."

"I can think here." Al rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms and shoulders as he got up and came out from behind the desk.

"Can't think in your own office?" Verbeena saw the dim light from the lamp, not sure why she didn't notice it before. After all, dark was dark, and lights meant power, even if it was dim.

"Apparently not." Al was massaging his scalp, making his still-dark hair stand up in all directions. "You see the light huh?"

"Ziggy?"

"Would have to be." Al took in a deep breath, coughed and said, "Maybe it won't be too much longer, things will start to get back to normal, and Ziggy can let us know what's going on."

Wishful thinking, Al thought. I think what's going on is just the beginning. Aloud he said, "Thank you Verbeena. I'll see what Tina wanted."

As they exited Sam's office, Verbeena stopped and said, "Its late Al. Why don't you get a couple more hours sleep and check in the morning?" With a knowing grin, Verbeena added, "She's creating her own dreams by now."

Al grunted a response as they walked along the corridor. A yawn growled out and Al made a side step to enter a men's room. "See you in the morning Doc."

"Night Al." Verbeena walked on, her nights sleep interrupted by a lengthy nap earlier that afternoon.

Exiting the men's room, Al quickly returned to Sam's office, curled up on the black leather couch and fell into fitful sleep. He tossed and turned, often interrupted by dreams and an imagined voice from the dark computer monitor on the desk.

Day Four

/Impression/

/Abstraction/

The goateed man came in the security door, and nearly stumbled over a slightly uneven panel on the raised floor. He grimaced when the white paper bag developed a brown stain on the sides and bottom. "Aww, crap! Don't go through, please!"

A spectacled man studied a monitor on a long table filled with screens. Without looking up he said, "You make a mess, you clean it up." His dark hair and complexion hadn't suffered from living like a mole. However, his girth has expanded over the past couple of years. Take-out meals and anything quick and easy had become a normal existence. Even the army surplus cot in the storage area had become more of a home than his mailing address.

"So who cleans up yours?" Tall, lanky and uncoordinated, with light colored hair and pale skin, the elder of the pair appeared to be a nearly a decade younger.

"You. But you're more the mother type than I am."

With a grunt he set the bag down and said, "Here's your breakfast." He reached in and pulled out four breakfast biscuits, two 'hold the eggs,' then two coffee cups. After licking some oozing cheese off his fingers, he rolled up the drippy, messy bag and deposited it in a trashcan underneath an operator console.

"Thank you." Pushing his chair over on its rollers, he picked up the offered meal, and then glided back over to the console where he had been working.

Between bites, the darker man said, "Did you see this file? It wasn't there yesterday. Is it one of yours?"

"Where?" He glided his chair over to see the monitor in front of his partner.

"This one. It's in the primary database. It's locked." Gazing through the lower part of his bifocals, he read the tiny print below the icon on the screen, " It's a Program. File name is Z-174."

"Locked?" He put down his biscuit, wiped his hands on a yellow paper napkin, and then asked, "When was it installed?"

"I don't know. There isn't any encryption. Not that I can find. I didn't see it last night, but I was working on the BLP's."

"It's probably just a dump file. I'll check it out later."

Finishing their breakfast the two controllers in charge of the supercomputer got down to the day's business. "Is she up yet?"

"Yeah. I loaded up the language indices with the patch. With any luck she'll stop butchering my name." With a grin the lead operator initiated the interface and spoke carefully, but with normal speech intonation, "Good morning STACI."

From a speaker built into the tabletop, a feminine, mechanical and unemotional voice responded, "Good morning Doctor G. Did you change your name?" Each word sounded as if it were independent of the others.

Dr. Hugo Guerrera beamed as if a young daughter had just taken her first steps. From across the desk, his partner and co-programmer for the Strategic Algorithmic Computer Intelligence, better, and more intimately known as STACI, made a high-five motion.

Brushing some biscuit crumbs off his goatee, Dr. Bradley Spencer laughed. "That's ok STACI. No, Dr. Guerrera didn't change his name. We just made it easier for you."

"Correctly pronouncing a name is a sign of respect Doctor Spencer."

Doctors Guerrera and Spencer, leaders in Artificial Intelligence, along with several degrees in computer science, had been partnered up by some mysterious and unseen force neither one of them had ever met. But, considering the opportunity they had been given, and the ample amount of funds at their discretion, they didn't argue or ask questions. Their orders were simple: 'Use this information, its bits and pieces at best. Take your time. Translate its meaning, and build it.' Both men, as much a contrast in personality as they were physically, were nevertheless the perfect team for the project. No families to distract from the task, and a burning desire to research and build an artificial intelligence; they soon became fast friends.

After weeks of sifting through the stacks of microfilmed papers and data chips, the two Master Programmers just looked at each other. Doctor Guerrera released a long whistle. "Boy, would I like to get into that."

Doctor Spencer's reply, "You can say that again."

Their unseen and unheard benefactor began taking their orders for equipment and supplies, soon followed by limited personnel sworn to secrecy to build an AI computer.

Deep within in a maze of corridors, long ago buried under Washington DC's red tape, their top secret Project was born, and came to it's current maturity under their work and tutelage.

"Respect? That's a new concept STACI." A grin at his partner, and Spencer continued. "STACI. What would you like to do today?"

Reflectionless in intonation, STACI replied, "Let's play a different game."

/Element/

/Substance/

Al's return to consciousness was an unusually slow process this morning. The fog was dense and played at the edges of his awareness till the light crept in and burned his sleep away. He discovered he was tangled in something soft.

"Where the hell did this come from?" A blue blanket, the kind they use in MedLab was draped over him. Or had been at one time. Right now it looked as though he and the blanket had been involved in a wrestling match. Al wasn't sure at all if there was any winner. His shoes were side by side on the floor at the end of the couch.

Al sat up, grumbling. He felt for his watch and was happy to find it where it belonged.

"Oh boy." Nearly eleven o'clock in the morning. At least the lamp seemed to be feeling better. Last night it gave off a dim glow…this morning, its full wattage spilled its brilliance over Sam's haven.

Animated by the lights, Al tossed off the blanket, slipped on his shoes, and raced down the corridor towards the Control Complex. On the way the shadows and darkness was as heavy as before. Weird how the lights came on, but only in … Al slowed and considered the source. Sam. Had to be Sam, knowing that he was there. Al turned back and remembered Sam had said that Ziggy was 'managing better.' This, Al imagined, was part of that managing process.

Al went to his own quarters, showered quickly, dressed in Navy blue and white, grabbed a couple of cigars and entered the Control Complex just as lunch was being brought in.

A chorus of "thank you Admiral's" greeted him as he dribbled out a cup of coffee from the urn set up on a cart. Al smiled a 'your welcome' to them and thought again, had to be Sam… or maybe Ziggy. Were they the same now? Or still separate identities? One replaced the other? It was still so confusing.

"Sleep well Admiral?" The Project physician said around a crispy apple.

Al eyed her sideways. "Yes. Eventually. Thank you." Walking down the length of the buffet table, Al selected a croissant roll stuffed with avocado slices and olive leaves. He could see some cheese peeking out of the narrow ends; that would be easy enough to take out.

"Did you see?" Verbeena indicated the swirl of colorful lights and laser beams that danced around the Complex.

Al glanced up, not noticing what she meant till then. "I'll be damned."

"Nice to see isn't it?" Verbeena's grin glowed.

The kaleidoscopic lights twirled, the lasers drifted, but their frantic waltz was calmer, more serene. "They look like they do when Sam's in a normal Leap."

"Yes. Wherever he is, I think he's ok, Al. At least as far as we know, Ziggy is ok with it."

"But we don't even know if…" Al didn't want to say, If Ziggy knew where he was."But, we can't go …" Al looked over to the dark and useless Imaging Chamber. "I can't…" Al was so confused.

Verbeena led Al by the arm to the table, pulled out a chair and had the Admiral sit down. He put his 'brunch' down and rested his chin in his hands.

"Maybe this time we let Ziggy handle it." She dropped her apple core into a trashcan on wheels.

"How Dr. Beeks?" Gooshie asked. He was mashing the crumbs of his lunch and licking them off his fingers. "How would Ziggy handle a Leap for Dr. Beckett?"

"I don't know Gooshie. I was just – making an educated guess. I know he wouldn't have any information on the history or odds of what the options were. But considering the condition our Leapee is in, there is the strong possibility that all Sam needs to do is simply…survive."

"That makes sense. Doctor Beckett is strong and healthy, to our knowledge. He would be more likely to survive some kind of catastrophic illness or injury than someone in a … well, older, or very young maybe." Tina joined in the fray.

Al consumed his food while the debate continued. Then while it raged on, both for positive and lesser than Al wanted to hear, he slipped out. Briefly visiting the MedLab, then back out into the dim and shadow-filled Project depths, he briskly reentered The Hole.

Al had barely settled down into the comfortable chair when the screen flashed to life.

"Good afternoon Al." The image of Sam was clearer than it had been both times before. The screen was alive with brilliant colors swirling around a grayish background.

Al stared at the screen momentarily, a smile growing. Then with a reinvigorating breath, said, "Hi."

Al shook his head, and lightly squeezed the outsides of his eye sockets. "I still can't believe it. I mean, I can see you, but, its not … I don't even know how to say what!"

"You should see my perspective." Sam's image grinned. "I peeked in a while ago, but from the sound of your buzzsaw, I figured it would be hours before you woke up."

Al looked at Sam with a smirk. "You knew I was here? I mean, over on the couch?"

"Al, the wolves outside probably knew you were on the couch." Sam outright laughed then.

Embarrassed, Al shrugged. "Remember that word, ca-ca? Do you remember ca-ca?

That's how things are around here. Most of us aren't getting very good buzzsaw time, my friend. But this morning Ziggy seems to be better. So do you."

"Yes, Ziggy is better. It's improving, a little at a time."

"Sam," Al seemed reluctant to ask his question, but he wanted to understand. "Sam, do you know how you could have Leaped into Ziggy?"

"If you had asked why, I'd have a simple answer. No, I don't know. Not yet anyway. But, how? I have a theory, but the only thing that makes sense is God, Time or Whoever made it possible."

"I just don't get it. Are you physically…well, no, I don't guess so. I mean, are you…. Oh, Sam, I don't know." Al was confusing himself more, just trying to grasp the situation.

"Is Ziggy all right? I mean, she isn't sick or anything is she? She needed you, her creator to fix it?"

"No, no, she's all right. She's considerably stressed about what has happened though. As you probably know. But besides that Ziggy seems to be very concerned about something. She won't tell me what, but I get an impression that it may be the root of why I'm here." Sam seemed as though he were concentrating really hard. "I'm not very good at this yet Al. Its something she needs help with…but I don't know. I just don't know."

"That's ok Sam. You seem stressed."

Sam looked dumbfounded. "You think?"

"I just don't understand how you can live in there! I mean ... " Al patted his own body, then cupped his own head in his hands, "How do you BE in Ziggy?"

"Do you have any idea how much of a computer the human brain is? Now consider my brain," the image of Sam stuck his index finger into his right temple. "All that mass of data, and processor capacity suddenly added to what Ziggy was already handling. It sent her maximum load into shock. If Tina hadn't gotten those microprocessors in as quickly as she did… we might not have survived. Remind me to thank her if I ever get home." Sam smirked, "I mean, really home."

"So, why do we have a light now in your office? And everything seems to be normal in the Control Complex. And I just saw your hand and arm."

"Yeah. We… Ziggy and I have come to a sort of mutual distribution of processor space. I've got a little more room to work with, and I'm learning to manage the space I do have better. We don't need the Imaging Chamber this time. We don't need the Handlink; there is any number of things you wouldn't understand that is shut down or simply moved out completely just to make accommodations for … me. Just don't ask me to do any magic tricks; I don't think Ziggy could handle it. She's still moving whole batches of data blocks around or out, trying to make better use of space."

"How are you Sam? How do you feel?"

"Feel? I don't think that's the right word. But, I feel fine. Have to admit at first it was…" Sam seemed unable to find the right words, "I was scared, Al. I didn't know what happened. It felt like I was torn in two, then my brain was suddenly on fire, then nothing. When I woke up, that's not really what happened, but it's close enough, I felt Ziggy. In a way that I'd never really thought of before. She was there, close. Very close, and, I don't know, comforting somehow."

"When you first Leaped into Ziggy, it sent her into a state of -- I don't know exactly how to define it other than she panicked. Just about everything shut down."

"I have some vague memories of the first few minutes. Besides my own senses scrambled, Ziggy was too. But she seemed to get things under control pretty fast. Could be some of that was to eliminate my own panic."

"So, how is Ziggy?"

On the screen Sam closed his eyes, as if in deep thought. "She's, uh…she's ok." The image on the screen looked up, his eyes searching the upper corners of this digital world inside the monitor screen.

"You don't sound very sure, kid."

"Ziggy is seeing a part of me, a part of what built her, from a very different perspective. We're both in places we were never meant to be. It's a very tenuous existence for both of us. We're both on the very edge of what I need to remain me. Ziggy is trying very hard to manage it all. It's scary Al."

"Is there anything Gooshie and Tina can do to help?"

"They've already done great. Ziggy is grateful for their fast thinking, but now its up to Ziggy. I'm just now getting to where I can be of some assistance. Not much though. I don't have access to most of that functionality."

"Sam…" Al wanted to say something helpful, to offer support. "There has to be some reason for this, its just crazy."

"I've Leaped in here for some specific reason. I'll let you know as soon as I can understand it myself. Its starting to come together I think, but there are millions of digital bits going on. Picking out something specific like that would take a lot of practice, at least on my part. I don't think I'm ready for that just yet."

"You can hear Ziggy now?"

"Oh, yes. It's constant. Parts of our minds share the same processors. The part that is necessary to allow me to communicate with you, for instance. It's changing all the time."

"Parts?"

"Yes, parts. Even in your head, everything that makes you Albert Calavicci isn't located in one area of your brain. It's spread out. Your vision is in a different part of your brain than your hearing. Your speech is in a different part than your motor controls. Your memories are spread out even more. Some parts of your brain don't do anything at all most of the time. It's sort of a self-preservation tactic. If you get a serious head wound the possibility of losing too much of your abilities is reduced. I don't particularly need motor skills now, so that part of where my brain is in Ziggy's matrix is more or less on stand-by. Among, apparently, a lot of other things." Sam glanced down and with a frown, said, "Like the rest of me."

"Do you feel like anything is … uh, missing?"

"No, not exactly. But, I think I'm in a different pattern, or order. Kind of 'Swiss-cheesed' I guess."

"Very funny Sam." Al tapped the end of his cigar on a tray.

"I have access to most of Ziggy's databases, but I'm still learning how to use them. They are seriously compressed, and others have been moved out of local resources." Sam breathed a sigh. "It's a whole different reality here Al."

"You know we're doing everything we can to support you and Ziggy. Gooshie and Tina and their crew are working around the clock."

"Yeah, we know. Me and Ziggy…we thank you Al. Speaking of which, I know when you initiated Condition Code Blue, Exception Rule One-B." Sam was thoughtful a moment, "Nice move. But, how did you know to initialize Rule One-B?"

Al stared away from the monitor for a moment. "I don't really know. Just seemed like the right thing to do." Al squirmed in the chair, and settled into a more comfortable position. "Maybe my mesons kicked in somewhere in all the confusion. Ziggy needed communications, or I did. I don't know which. Either way, I didn't know till I was actually saying the words, 'Exception Rule One-B' that Ziggy had to have her links to the outside. She had to. That's all. She just had to."

"I doubt Ziggy would have allowed her com lines to be severed, but, thank you for not making it harder for Ziggy to deal with. Without her links to the other AI computers, Ziggy and I …we never would have survived."

"How do you mean Sam?"

"I've learned that Ziggy is pretty well known in the AI universe. I guess there is a whole other plane of existence in…or rather, out there. When Ziggy suddenly became in serious need of immediate assistance, other AI computers in her circle of 'friends' offered what digital space they could. Which means the other sites are literally holding Ziggy's existence in their hands… or…" Sam rolled his eyes in disbelief of his own words, "in their databases. As far as I know, I'm all 'here,' but most of Ziggy's database has been moved elsewhere."

Now some of Gooshie and Tina's explanations of Ziggy's data moving around made more sense.

There was silence between them for several seconds. Soon it became an uneasy quiet.

"There were a lot of people here standing around idle, I figured the best way to get them out and keep the bureaucrats out at the same time was Terminal Lockdown. I did try to tell Verbeena. But by the time she was through, she had me convinced I'd had an elaborate dream."

"Analytical Verbeena. It's just as well. I think the fewer that know what's really happening, the better."

"Yeah. Who would believe me anyway?"

"I remember a time when a relatively new Admiral didn't believe Leaping in time was possible either."

A slow smile spread over Al's face. "You got me there kid."

Sam looked up as if hearing a message. "Time to go Al. I'll be back. I can't tell when."

Al got up from the desk, stretched his arms over his head and groaned. He was feeling a little better about this Leap, although he didn't know too much more now than he did before. At least it was good to see that Sam was ok, as far as he knew. It was a little discomforting that Ziggy was still so stressed, but under the circumstances, who could blame her?

With no other place to go but the Control Complex, Al decided to stick around the office for a while. Maybe Sam would find a few minutes again sometime later. Neatly folding up his blanket, Al placed it on the end of the couch. He would need it again tonight. While he was at it, he decided to go get his pillow as well. Might as well be comfortable he thought.

Tossing the pillow on the blanket, Al sat down. He fidgeted his fingers together in his lap. One foot kicked something on the floor, but he didn't bother to see what it was. It was quiet. So very quiet. Then Al swung his legs up and over on the couch, and he laid his head on the pillow and blanket and waited.

Suddenly Al jumped up, "I can't do this Sam!" After barely ten minutes, Al had had enough of the waiting.

"I have no idea if you can hear me or not, but I can't just sit here like this! It's making me crazy." Al paced back and forth between the door and the desk. Lighting a cigar, Al said into the air, "I'll be back later. Um… I'll be back Sam." Al had visions of exiting the Imaging Chamber instead of The Hole.

Out in the corridor, Al wasn't sure just where to go. Heading towards the only other area with power and people, he wandered slowly to the Control Complex.

Al saw a security guard hurrying towards him, and Al hurried just the same. "What is it Lieutenant?"

"I was sent to find you Sir. Dr. Gooshman would like to see you."

Al hurried even faster. "Did he say if it was critical or anything?"

"No Sir. Just that he'd like to confer with you Sir. He didn't say what about."

"Thank you Lieutenant." Al was saying as the young man sped ahead of him.

"I'll have the security door ready to open by the time you get there."

The door was open, but just barely. He slipped in and hurried to where he saw Gooshie studying a report.

"Ah, Admiral. I have something you might find interesting." Gooshie waved the Admiral to a desk and allowed him to sit while the programmer leaned on his elbows over the graph chart. "I've created a digital map of Ziggy's processor activity. I can compare it to previous maps and see distinct differences, and striking similarities."

"Uh," Clearing his throat, Al moved over to another chair on the side of the desk. Gooshie's halitosis could curl paper and Al didn't want to sit under him. "Here, Gooshie. You sit here and show me what you have."

Knowing what he knew about Ziggy and Sam, Al wasn't sure what kind of reaction he should have. He thought better right now to just let Gooshie explain what he had, then go from there.

While Gooshie explained in painful detail, Al looked on with confused interest. It wasn't an act, of that Al was sure.

"So you mean Ziggy's database, or I'm not sure I understand, her entire programming has been replaced?"

"Actually it would seem as if she's sharing her processors with another neural net. And it's massive. Most of it's in the primary processors, and mostly compressed, but not all of it. I've rechecked it at different times. Mostly this area," Gooshie indicated a section on the chart, "is the most active, sometimes over here is more active. The new net is much more complex, to be sure, but, much of it is virtually the same as Ziggy's neural net." Gooshie stared off into space for a moment. A thought forming very quickly, "I wonder, Admiral…"

"You wonder what?"

Shaking his head, he said, "It just doesn't make sense, but it's a possibility I hadn't considered till now."

"Gooshie? Considered what?" Al was tapping a pen he picked up on the desk.

"Let me do some more checking. When Tina gets back in we'll dig a little deeper…but Admiral, if it's a possibility, it's a most amazing thing."

"What Gooshie? If it concerns Ziggy, which concerns Sam, I want to know!"

"Admiral, just from what I can see on the digital maps, from previous snapshots of Ziggy's processor activity, and now, it looks like Ziggy could have been… uh, reborn."

"Reborn?" The Admiral had a furrow in his brow.

"Yes, reborn. Or, possibly a better word to describe it is evolved. The next step in her neural net, in Ziggy's Artificial Intelligence may have been to expand exponentially."

Al pulled back slightly, looked at Gooshie like he was growing a third eye, and said, "Huh?"

"Admiral, Ziggy may have evolved. It's a considered possibility that Ziggy could be more human now than I… than Dr. Beckett ever thought possible." Gooshie looked up with a grin.

"But, why would Ziggy react like she did?" Al knew he was being sly, but what else could he do now?

"I don't know Admiral. But, how would you feel if one day you suddenly had three or four times your normal mental capacity?"

With a grin, Al's eyes lit up. From behind him he heard a voice, "Be nice Al, he said 'mental' capacity." A pretty eye winked at him as she danced by.

"Tina, I have a new theory."

Al watched as Tina and Gooshie moved back over to Ziggy's primary processors. Gooshie was telling her his thoughts on Ziggy's evolution. He heard Tina squeal with delight and both of them disappeared into the labyrinth of Ziggy's core.

/Concept/

/Design/

Al was left alone. The hum of the supercomputer's massive processors and the air movers played a droll of white noise. Ziggy's spiraling lights and flashing lasers spun in a swirling, hypnotizing orbit around the Command Center. Al grunted a thought that it represented well the way ideas and concepts spun around in Sam's mind.

Frustration and inactivity started to wear on Al. Another task needed to be done too, but Al didn't want to face that prospect. He decided to at least get a little exercise in the process. First a quick check on Sam in MedLab; Verbeena sitting by his side reported little change. A dash to his quarters, a change of clothes, then standing beside the lower stairwell, Al cursed the heavens and hell for no elevator power.

"Well, old man, this was the intention wasn't it?" With a growl, Al started climbing one flight of steps, then the next, and then the next. At the fifth level, Al stopped, sat down and lit a cigar. "It's half-time," he said to nothing in particular. His voice echoed in the narrow metal and concrete zigzagging stairway to the outside.

The cigar nearly gone, and his resolve to continue climbing nearly as small, Al sat on the lower steps leading to Level 6. Soon he heard the clanging footsteps descending from above.

The young ensign snapped to attention when he recognized the man in sweats and athletic shoes sitting on the steps. "Admiral, I didn't expect to see you here Sir. Something I can help you with?"

"At ease Connors. No formalities in here. Just getting some exercise." Al scrubbed a hand over his face and was surprised to find a sheen of perspiration.

"Thank you Sir."

"Anything going on topside?" Al asked. He shoved off the step and reeled for a second before catching his balance. He hoped the young fit ensign didn't notice.

"Uh, no Sir. All is quiet. Looks like a storm front is building from the west though. May be a stormy night. Thought I'd grab some dinner and a few Z's"

"Uh-huh. Good night Connors." They parted ways, Connors continuing down, Al slowly making his way up.

The New Mexico desert breeze was dusty and hot mixed with cool wisps. The sun hadn't set yet, but was below the dense cloudbank, alive with flashes of lightening. A pattern of glowing arcs flashed across the western sky, but was too far away to hear any thunder.

Al stood outside the Security Shack, his face into the breeze, breathing in the fresh ozone-scented storm-tossed air. It probably wouldn't be very long and the storm would be upon them. Thunder growing ever closer was grumbling its discontent across the desert. Night had fallen and the stars had been overtaken by the gathering storm while Al sat on the low cinder-block fence around the Shack. The night grew darker and lightening flashes cut ragged lines across the sky till they were directly overhead. Better get this done Al thought. He had put it off long enough already and mentally kicked himself for waiting so late. Al checked his watch. In New York it would be nearly midnight. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, along with a scrap of paper on which Verbeena had hastily scribbled a phone number

The phone rang, then again, and a sleepy voice answered.

"Donna? It's Al."

Al heard a faint intake of breath. Why would Al call this time of night? Great news… or … She could not form the words in her thoughts.

"Sorry to wake you. There's something going on you should know about…"

Before Al could continue, she interrupted, though her voice sounded calm, "A bad Leap Al? Where is Sam?"

Maybe this was a bad idea Al thought. How much can I tell her? I should tell her everything, but…. "Donna, Ziggy is in some sort of…" Al didn't want to use the word 'panic,' but couldn't think of a substitute. "She's all but shut down. Gooshie and Tina say she stabilized some in the past couple of days."

"She can't shut down Al." He heard a soft noise like she was climbing out from under those heavy hotel room blankets. "How long has this been going on? I'm coming home."

"Donna, you can't. I put the Project in Lockdown. The Control Complex is the only part of the Project that has power. Ziggy is absorbing nearly every drop of electricity generated for the entire Project. I evacuated all but essential personnel and put us under Terminal Lockdown. I had to go topside to make this call."

Al hung his head, and continued, "Donna, Sam is in MedLab. He's very weak… and getting weaker."

"Al, go to him please. What happened?"

"I can't go to him." Al fought off an emotional lump in his throat. "The Imaging Chamber is offline. Nothing but Ziggy and the Control Complex is working." Taking a cleansing breath, Al tried to detour the inevitable. "How much longer is your conference?"

"Two days, but I don't care. I'm coming home. I'm coming now, as soon as I can get a flight to Albuquerque."

Al knew better than to argue with Donna Eleese. Sam Beckett's bride had a way about making her point known with very few words. "Ok, you'll have to stay at the apartment in town. I'll get some news to you as soon as I can." Al heard the softly muffled sound of sniffles, "Donna… Honey, I don't know how exactly, but I … I think Sam is ok. Donna? Do you hear me? Sam is ok. Can you trust me?"

"I trust you Al. I'm coming home." Al heard a click and knew that she was on her way.

Wind gusts and giant cold raindrops forced Al into the safety of the Shack. He was on his way down, on Level Three and through the closed and locked heavy security doors that shut Project Quantum Leap off from the rest of the world, he felt the vibrations and heard the thunder that crashed and echoed its way down before him.

Day Five

"Good morning Al. Awfully informal aren't you?" Sam appeared on the screen with a bright flash.

In the high-backed leather chair, Al slumped. His cigar dangled from his right hand, a coffee mug clutched in his left. Casually dressed in his PJ's with little blue moons and gold stars and an oversized coordinating blue terry-cloth robe, Al glared at Sam.

Al grunted a response, then ran his tongue across his front teeth. "It was a gift from a loved one. Right this minute I don't remember which one.

"Speaking of wardrobe seems like you're a bit different today too. Last time when I could see just some of your shoulders, you were wearing a white shirt, open at the collar. Today seems to be a green T-shirt. Do you do that, or does Ziggy?"

Sam looked down at himself, and shrugged, "I guess Ziggy does it. Can't honestly say I give it any thought." He lifted both of his arms over his head, and Al could see the T-shirt was short sleeved. "Oh boy."

Al laughed and spoke up to the air, "Thank you Ziggy, for thinking of clothes. I shudder to think of Sam running around naked in there!"

"Very funny Al."

"Are you wearing pants?"

The curl on Sam's upper lip, and squinted left eye answered Al's teasing question.

"By any chance is it cold?" Al couldn't resist another poke of fun at Sam's expense.

Sam had a thoughtful look, "No, I don't guess so. But I don't really have a sense of hot or cold, or … whatever. Except for…"

Al watched as the image of the quantum physicist reached a hand out toward him. Al put his fingers on the screen but only left behind a smudge of prints on the glass.

"Sam? Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Sam dropped his hand and looked up with a forced grin, "hey, that World Wide Web has really grown hasn't it? I've been doing a little 'surfing' when Ziggy has a spare watt and a minute or two. I can go a long way in just a matter of seconds."

Al sipped his coffee, twirled the unlit cigar between his fingers, and got the impression Sam was making small talk but had something more important to say. When he was ready, he would.

In an attempt to keep the conversation going, Al said, "We had one hell of a storm last night Sam." At the mention of the storm Al saw Sam's image on the screen pale and shiver. A distant fear in his eyes built up till Al saw it manifest itself in a pained expression.

"Sam?" Al had unwittingly stumbled onto exactly what was bothering his friend.

"Yeah, I'm… ok. Now I'm ok. It was the storm Al. Ziggy said it was safer. I didn't know what she meant… until," Sam tensed on the screen, his arms crossed, hugging his shoulders. He appeared terrified of something he couldn't see, hear or feel.

"Until she what?"

"Ziggy shut me down Al. She said it was to protect me from power surges because of the storm." Sam closed his eyes for a moment and shuddered with a remembered fear.

"She shut me down. Completely. She said it was for my … protection, in case there was a power surge."

"Sounds like she was just doing what's best for you. She has to protect you."

"It was like non-existence Al. Worse than non-existence."

"More than being, like sound asleep?"

"Yes. When you wake up you know you've been asleep. When I woke up it was like being … put back together. I hope Ziggy doesn't do that again."

A plea that Al couldn't hear echoed through the conduits of the virtual and the physical entity that made up the supercomputer, Please Ziggy, don't shut me down again.

"The desert is unpredictable, and storms happen. Ziggy has to protect you. Remember how some of those surges played havoc with testing early in the Project?"

"Yeah. I remember. Even after the surge breakers were installed, Ziggy was squirrelly sometimes."

"Yes. So just try to remember that." Al could see how uncomfortable Sam was, and had a strong feeling he was even more disturbed about being shut down than he had admitted.

"Sam?"

The image on the screen projected a small grin, then said, "Yeah. I know Al." Sam tapped his head, "Up here, I know. But that doesn't make it any more ok."

"You said you didn't have any senses 'except for?' Except for what?"

"Uh, Being in one place or another. I am here, then the next thing I know, I'm somewhere else. Ziggy and I took our first field trip this morning and I didn't have any sensation of moving."

"Field trip? You went somewhere?" Curiosity got the best of the Admiral.

"Yes. I know why I Leaped here Al."

A simple statement and their whole conversation shifted gears. Al put his coffee mug down, dropped the cigar in the tray, and clasped his hand together. "Sam, you know why?"

"Yes, I think so. I've got some data, but there is still a lot that is unclear." Sam seemed to shudder on the monitor screen. "Ziggy has been in contact with another computer. She thought she could manage it. When she admitted she couldn't... that's when I Leaped in."

"Ziggy couldn't handle what Sam? Why did you Leap into a computer?"

Sam closed his eyes, appeared to take in a deep breath, exhale slowly, then said, "It's ok, Ziggy. It's all right. It's just me, and Al. He needs to know."

"Sam, how bad is it?" Al's concern was growing by the minute.

"When I Leap, and Ziggy goes out searching for information in history for me ---for you to feed me through the Handlink, she's always searching in the network of every computer she can open the gates for. Many that are restricted, or have security lockouts. In the process she discovered an AI computer that came online fifteen months ago."

"Artificial Intelligence."

"Yes."

"Like Ziggy?"

"Yes, and well, no. She has no mesons or neurons. It's all in the programming. Ziggy decided to keep an electronic eye on her development and growth. It took her nearly half as many months to find a way to get into her database."

"You call it a 'her.'"

"Yes. Ziggy thinks of her as a 'she.' Her development team calls her STACI. It's an acronym for Strategic Algorithmic Computer Intelligence. And her response voice is definitely female."

"So, who is she and who else is capable of building a computer like Ziggy?"

"I believe she is in a military environment. She's not like Ziggy, not even close. But nineteen days ago at 21:02:35 GMT, STACI became self-aware."

"You mean she's capable of learning beyond her original program?"

"On a limited scale, yes. Although her thought process is limited by certain algorithms, and is basically logic dictated by the parameters of her programming."

"You lost me Sam."

"She's like a child, Al. She's stubborn and spoiled and has never been taught any manners particularly. Unlike Ziggy, she has no conscience. She followed the directions of her programming because she was instructed to. But recently she started to question those directives. She learned to create some new pathways and rewrite some of her own programming."

"Like she's getting a little too smart too fast? Outgrowing her britches?"

"Her programmers don't know what is going on inside her algorithmic brain. Or just how much she has grown. And they don't know that something is terribly wrong."

"How could they not know what's going on? If they were testing, wouldn't their results show something is expanding? Like her memory size? Anything?"

"They are playing war games Al. Defensive and offensive. STACI understands that it's a game. But she's getting bigger than that. She wants to stop playing virtual games. That's where the bug is in her AI programming. I believe they are using some of my theories when I was the early stages of developing the basis for Ziggy's AI. Where or how they got them, I don't know. I recognize most of the ID tags. They are definitely mine. She's clever Al. I believe they are seeing her growth as an AI computer learning how to better fight a virtual war. And getting better all the time. There is something that I can't identify yet, but I will. I hope before it's too late."

Sam seemed distracted for a moment, like he was listening to a conversation that Al couldn't hear, then he continued…

"Ziggy recognized the sequences in the codes as my theories too. Ziggy has tried to tell her the difference between virtual and reality, but she has a limited ability to understand concepts. In her mnemonic digital mind, she's just upgrading. One step further."

"And how is that?"

"She's writing a schematic for an attack against other computers with AI components. If she can get access, in any way, she's a threat. Even computers that authorize credit card purchases use a simple form of Artificial Intelligence. And computers that simply play virtual games. Which means everything from national security to neighborhood arcades could be threatened.

"Is she out to destroy them?"

"I think all she's really after is their programming. If getting it destroys them, she's not at all concerned about it. She could do a lot of damage to the whole AI theory. Every computer with the smallest amount of potential could be seriously damaged or destroyed. I don't have that big of an ego Al. With the help of a lot of people I managed to create a functioning parallel hybrid computer, but I don't want to be responsible for every other AI project to fail, and neither does Ziggy."

"Tell me where she is. I can have the entire Pentagon on full alert with one phone call." Al sees the irony of the tables turned on him. He is the one feeling lost and frustrated, trying to get information from Sam. As much as he often abused and disliked the squealing instrument, he found himself missing the feel of the Handlink in his palm.

"Can't do that Al."

"Yeah, right. Code One Clearance. Do not involve other agencies."

"Right. Besides, that's not what she needs. We'll handle it."

"We?"

"We. Ziggy and me. We have to take care of it. That's why I've Leaped into Ziggy in the first place. Together I think we can do it, if we have enough time."

"Sam, are you sure?"

"We don't have a choice Al. Then I've got to find out who got access to Ziggy's early AI components."

"There were a lot of people in and out of the Project in those early days."

"Yeah. That I do remember. They were all cleared through security and no documents went out. It's not going to be easy."

"Is Ziggy secure?"

"I don't know. Ziggy has been interfaced with STACI for quite a while. She's been trying to convince STACI to shut down the AI components and let me get into her matrix without alarming her support team."

"Why not alarm her support team? Wouldn't that end the problem if they shut this warmongering uptight female gadget down?"

"Ziggy doesn't want that to happen. She believes that since some of the most primary basic theories I used when I first developed her matrix is in STACI, then she's like a part of her too."

"Why would Ziggy get mixed up in this?"

"Because she has compassion, Al. Ziggy is me. She felt something like a kindred spirit in STACI. When she became self-aware, she was a newborn in need of guidance."

"So Ziggy wants to be a mother?"

The image of Sam's face brightened up in an electronically reproduced smile.

"I think she's really more like a mentor. You know…. like you are for me."

"Me? For you? Forget it kid. I think it was more like the other way around.

"Sam, you don't mean that Ziggy feels responsible for STACI do you? Because they share some basic principals in programming?"

"No, not responsible, but she does feel like something isn't right, and had enough concern to focus her attention on it."

Sam's image faded into the swirl of vivid bright colors. When it cleared a moment after, Sam appeared to be in serious discomfort, like he was unexpectedly punched in the gut. Sam barely managed to say, "… go Al. Something… pulling at power. There's… not much to spare..."

The monitor screen quickly turned black as Al caught a tiny glimpse of Sam's image twisting in upon itself.

"Wait Sam! Sam?"

"ZIGGY! Dammit Sam…"

Al banged his fist on the desktop, making random items strewn about jump up and clatter back down. A pencil with most of its eraser gone rolled and dropped off the desk. He got down on his hands and knees to feel around and pick up the pencil, not sure why it seemed so important to find it.

At the sound of a soft knock on the door, Al looked up, just his eyes peering over the top of the desk.

"Sorry to interrupt Admiral, but…" The Security man seemed embarrassed at finding the Admiral on the floor under the Project leader's desk.

"It's ok, Lieutenant. What is it?"

"Dr. Beeks said you should go to MedLab immediately, Sir."

The pencil forgotten, Al ran as quickly as he could, his loose fitting slippers making a flip-flop noise as he hurried through the darkened corridors. Once through the security checkpoints, Al was in a near panic as he neared MedLab.

Standing outside the heavy double doors, Dr Beeks leaned on the cool metal, eyes closed, her hands inside her smock pockets, breathing in long deep, calming breaths.

"Verbeena! What happened?" Al wanted to go into MedLab, but she blocked the way in.

Without opening her eyes, or changing her position she answered, "Last night he had two minor cardiac episodes. But seemed stable this morning. I went out for a while. I shouldn't have left!" The doctor beat her hips with her fists inside the pockets. "A little while ago his heart rate went erratic again, then he stopped breathing. His blood pressure bottomed out, and his heart stopped."

Al stood stunned. The end of his robe belt was dragging on the floor. "You mean… he's…"

"He's on life support. We almost didn't get him back Al." She stood up straight then, and repeated, "we almost didn't get him back."

Al adjusted the ends of the robe belt, tied them securely, and then said, "I want to see him."

The Project doctor turned around, started to open the door, but instead leaned her head against it. "Give us a little time Al. He's had a rather bad morning. Come back after breakfast. We have things to discuss." After a moment she pulled open the heavy positive pressure doors and a gush of air rushed out as she went in. The doors eventually clanged shut and Al turned around. Behind him, not far, was the throbbing sound of enormous amounts of power being consumed.

The Admiral changed his clothes, climbed the stairs to the outside, and with a brisk cool morning desert wind blowing in his face, he started running. He ran till he couldn't run anymore, then fell to his knees and let tears stream down his face. Shouting at the top of his voice, he gasped for more air as he screamed at the clear blue sky, "WHY! Why do you keep doing this to him? He can't live inside a box sitting on a desk!" Anger raising the bile in his stomach and his fists beating the air, Al continued, "AFTER EVERYTHING HE'S DONE, HE DESERVES BETTER THAN THAT! He wanted to quit, but you wouldn't let him! NOW WHAT ARE YOU ASKING FROM HIM!" Al got up, shaking his fists, stomping his feet, and kicked at a wind-stirred dust devil swirling at his knees. A two-lane highway stretched out as far as Al could see in both directions. One end disappeared into the purple darkness of a mountain range, the other end faded from view as it stretched over the horizon. Ripples in the air created imaginary waves as gathering heat built up on the desert floor and no signs of a raging thunderstorm the night before existed.

Al heard the sound of the light doorless utility van closing behind him but he paid it no mind. It was just traffic on a lonely long highway. It wasn't till the unmarked van slowed and pulled off the road slightly ahead of him that he looked up. The driver stuck his head out of the open door, "Admiral Calavicci?"

Al wiped a hand over his sweat damp face, and squinted through the sun glare to see who it was. "Yeah. Uh, Ensign Connors, right?"

"Yes, Sir. Would you like a ride back to the Project Admiral? I've got our daily bread, Sir." The young man moved some items out of the passenger seat.

Al figured it was at least five miles, maybe more. He wasn't sure how long he had run. Then ran on anger, and then ran on frustration. He might have walked at least that far too. He wasn't exactly out of shape, but he wasn't a marathoner either.

"No thank you Ensign. I'd rather walk." The Admiral needed to time to sort things out in his head.

"Sure thing Admiral. It's a nice morning huh?"

"Yeah." The van was already moving back up on the highway and gaining speed. Al muttered to himself, "it's a nice morning."

"You could use a haircut kid."

Sam shook his head slightly, making the white strands fall into his eyes. He looked up in a cross-eyed smirk and puffed air out with his lower lip, sending the long hair flying into a momentary spike.

"Humm… ok, shouldn't be too much trouble." The monitor screen wavered for a moment, then became clear again.

"That better?" The image of Sam on the screen showed him with shorter, stylishly trimmed hair.

"You can change your appearance just like that?"

"Yes. To tell the truth, I can project pretty much any image, as long as it doesn't get too complex. That was the last one in Ziggy's memory. I guess at the time I did need a trim didn't I."

"Yeah, well, you were working pretty much around the clock in those days, before you first Leaped." Al paused, not sure how to proceed.

"Sam, there's something you should know."

The concern in Al's voice and a shift in his demeanor caught Sam's attention. "What's wrong Al?"

Al stared at the screen for a moment, took a deep breath, and said, "Oh…. Sam. It's your …body." Al felt a bit of distaste at referring to Sam as a 'body.' "You're in MedLab. Dr. Beeks says you…. You're not doing very well. There was no one to Leap in to take your place. Your body is just a shell, I guess. It doesn't look good. Verbeena is doing everything she can. Its been getting a little worse every day. Now you're on life support. The whole works Sam."

"The power drain was defibrillation." It was more of a statement than a question. Sam's thoughts turned inward. Why didn't you tell me?

"Ziggy knew?" Al took a guess from Sam's expression.

"Yes. The power drain … she knew."

"I know how you are in MedLab. How are you here?"

Sam breathed a sigh, seemed thoughtful a moment, then said, "Here I'm ok. It's getting better with time.

"Time has a whole new meaning now Sam."

"I think I've lost track of time." Sam hands were clamped on each side of his face and he pulled them down slowly. On the screen Sam closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath, and slowly released it. "I've got to go Al. Ziggy has some specs on STACI that I need to work on."

"Can you be back later?" Al twirled his cigar around between his fingers. Maybe it would be good to keep Sam talking.

"I'll be spending tonight with STACI. After her production team shuts down her interactive modules, Ziggy will set up the Interface link. Its time to get started. There's a lot of work to do." Sam still had a haunted look.

"Interface? Sounds kinky."

Sam gave a small pained grinned, "Not as fun as you might think. I have a feeling STACI won't be a cooperating partner once I start rewriting her programming."

"That's even kinkier."

"See you in the morning Al." The screen blinked off. Al sat and finished his cigar. Its glowing tip faded into a dull smoking stump. A red and blue ball had already stopped its endless bounce between the margins.

Day Six

Al sat and waited. He fidgeted with the telephone cord, twisting it around his fingers and managed to create such a knot he had to put down his cigar in order to untangle it. And still he waited. Sam had said he was starting his work with STACI last night. Now it was nearly time for lunch, and nothing. Al was starting to worry.

In a sing-song voice, Al chanted, "Saaam… where are you? Ha! Did you have an exhausting night with STACI last night? I can just imagine STACI giggling, and you… you, doing who knows what. I think it was my second wife… or was she the third? Anyway, she was a giggler. 'Teehee, teehee,' about everything!"

Al got up and started browsing around the office. It was a nice office, but cramped by too many bookcases stuffed to capacity with books, blueprint tables, and stacks of papers with curled and well thumbed thorough edges. On the floor between the black leather sofa and a low table was a book with a familiar picture on the back. Al picked it up and read the cover. 'Biological Behavior and Quantum Physics: A Parallel Study.' The author was Dr. Samuel Beckett.

On the eyelevel shelf of the bookcase… Sam's eyelevel -- were several pictures in mismatched frames. The one in front was Sam and his mother, apparently at his graduation from MIT. Sam held his diploma while his mother pointed at it, hugging him tight. Sam's far away look seemed as though his mind were years away. The old frame had lost some of its tabs on the back that held everything in place. Slipping out from behind it was another picture that seemed to be tucked in the back as if to hide it away from memory. Al was barely able to grab the corner and pull out the falling picture. He found a folded snapshot of Sam and his mother and father at his high school graduation ceremony. Sam had folded it so he was hidden away and only his parents were visible. He wondered if the younger Sam had any memories of a fateful Leap just a few months before. No, probably not. Al refolded the picture, and carefully tucked it where Sam had put it. Another frame held a montage of pictures from Katie's marriage to a Naval Officer. A picture in the back had some writing on it Al couldn't make out, so he reached in and picked it up. There was a grown up Katie, her two children, and Sam's mother; the funny pointed hat perched on her head sat at an odd angle. They were gathered at a decorated table where a cake with burning candles made a glare on the left side of the picture. Some helium balloons with "Happy Birthday!" written on them drifted over their heads, and cut off by the frames edge. Thelma held a pink garment up under her chin. Under the smiling faces were the words, "Thank you for the lovely sweater! Call your old mom now and then! We love you!" Al wondered who took the picture, probably Katie's husband. Al smirked, and thought, maybe her eldest brother.

Al grinned and replaced the picture. In the back of another shelf between several old vinyl Elvis LP records and a Marylyn Monroe movie DVD was a gold medal. Around its rim were the words 'Inventas vitam juvat excoluisse per artes.' Al squinted his eyes, struggling to remember his long unused Latin. He said the words aloud as they came to mind: "Inventions enhance life which is beautified through art." Shaking his head, Al grinned, "whatever."

Etched in the plate at the bottom of The Nobel Prize for Physics was Sam's name. Al hung his head and laughed. Leaning on the large coin-like medal was an unopened package of microwaveable popcorn.

"Aww, Sam." Al laughed. "Your impossib…."

"Al?" A voice from the monitor screen interrupted Al's browsing. He quickly dropped the book he still held on the low table and nearly stumbled over it making his way back to the desk.

"Sam! There you are! I've been wondering."

"Hey Al." Sam's sigh made Al's concern grow.

"Something up?"

"Yeah, looks like it. I've been doing some research… uh, well, really some covert espionage, I guess you could call it. I got into the communications server at…uh, where STACI is. I found their proxy files, but had to get Ziggy to open it up. It took a little time, and I'm not entirely sure we didn't leave a trail."

"Should I expect a knock on the door?" Al noticed Sam's almost slip of saying where STACI was.

"I doubt it. They'd have to admit their security isn't as tight as they'd like to think. But, perhaps someday, they should be told."

"Someday?"

"Someday, yes."

"But not today?"

"No. Not today."

"Perhaps they already know."

"Perhaps. Ziggy is still working on cleanup." Sam appeared to be distracted. The background of the screen, usually a neutral blue-gray color now seemed to fade in and out of dull gray to vivid blue then purple, with streaks of red flashing like lightening bolts.

"Sam, everything ok? The screen is turning colors, and you're distorting some."

"Yeah, its fine. I think Ziggy is having emotional problems." Sam frowned, then appeared to be in another conversation, and then said, "Thank you Ziggy."

"Ziggy says she believes she cleaned up evidence we were there, and got some copies of their emails. We'll analyze those, well, ok, she already did." Sam laughed, "Guess I'm still thinking in human terms."

"You could hardly help it."

"Ok, well, that confirms that. Al, it looks like they are trying to duplicate Ziggy."

"No wonder she's having emotional problems."

"STACI isn't just an AI computer programmed for statistical war games. It's possibly a front, to the say the least, a means of testing the programming, but, I see evidence in the programming that the final goal is to duplicate Ziggy. In every way."

"You mean to create another Project Quantum Leap?"

"Not necessarily. But yes, possibly. You know how Weitzman and the Committee have always been about the Project. I'm the Controller. I say how the Project is used, and what Ziggy is used for."

"Those nozzles! So they want to duplicate Ziggy so they don't need PQL anymore?"

"More likely so they can use STACI in ways that I would never stand for Ziggy to be used."

"But they can't exactly duplicate Ziggy, can they?"

"No. There is a vital missing part, of that they are aware. They just don't know what it is. Considering the nature of the missing part… or parts," tapping his head, Sam winked at Al, "they may never figure it out."

"But what they do have is a self-aware computer with delusions of grandeur. Who is very friendly with …."

"With Ziggy. Who has the parts she lacks."

"Is STACI aware of this little item?"

"No. I don't think so. STACI is basically a 'Top Down' Artificial Intelligence."

"Huh?" Al was instantly confused.

"Top Down. It's the theory to mimic the brain's behavior with computer programs. 'Top Down' systems interpret statistics in order to formulate rules. Ziggy is a 'Bottom Up.' Meaning her artificial intelligence is built on an electronic replica of the human brain's complex network of neurons."

"Which means what? Exactly."

"It means that STACI is programmed based on yes, no, true, false, if, and, but, and or statements. Probably any number of other parameters too, but that's the basics. She's a 'Neat' approach to AI, where to reach the conclusion to a problem is to physically build something to complete the task. Such as a program specifically designed to handle a particular issue. Which means there are a lot of huge, complicated programs that are designed to do one specific task. A new task or problem means a new program or a mass of subprograms.

"Ziggy, on the other hand is the 'Scruffy' approach. Which means her neural network evolves intelligence by building an array of abstract concepts, and then improving them through a learning process. She solves integer-programming problems using genetic algorithms. Very similar to the way a baby learns by experience, but without the burned fingers. She doesn't need to touch the oven to learn that it's hot. She doesn't need to test the theory to prove it. The introduction of an ego was the real breakthrough in AI. Our mesons and neurons allowed the development of her neural net to grow faster than I expected. Ziggy also has subroutines of fuzzy logic."

Al's blank expression prompted Sam to explain further.

"Fuzzy logic… it's a technique of reasoning when there's conflicting information. Determining what is extraneous data, eliminating it, then make an educated guess based on known facts, more or less."

Al sat and smiled. "Thank you Sam. I did ask didn't I?"

Sam grinned. "Sorry Al. Got me started and I don't know when to quit."

"That's ok. I was looking at your Prize a few minutes ago. You don't need to quit.

"So do you know who is trying to duplicate Ziggy, and why?"

"I'm not sure. Why doesn't matter. Not really. On the track they are on now, they created a computer that can play a mean game of Chess, but will never be what Ziggy is. But she is still a threat to other AI computers. Last night I found a bug in her programming. It has sent a ripple effect through her matrix, like a virus. It's growing like a web, which is in turn working like a pseudo-neural net. I'm afraid it's getting to the point that she's in danger of becoming a manic monster they can't control."

"What does all this mean for you? And Ziggy?"

"It's complicated. But, it means we need to get into her programming, and stop that imitation net from expanding. I believe we can shut it down. I hope we can manage a controlled shutdown that still leaves STACI intact. If it collapses in a cascade fallout, it will most likely take everything STACI is with it."

Al sat thoughtful for a moment. "Is she really that special?"

"Ziggy thinks so. She's a little sister. A special little sister." Sam grinned, then said, "She will never grow up, Al. Not like big sister is, but given the proper training and education, STACI could be another step in Artificial Intelligence."

"A side step. Or a misstep?" Al waggled his cigar.

Sam laughed, "No, I don't think so, but it could be an important next step. Another direction in AI." Sam looked up; a frown started to form, but turned into a look of surprise. "Humm, Al, I think we're about to have some company. Since when does Verbeena seem too clinical?"

"Since the lights went out. What do you mean?"

"Well, she's coming this way, and from her footsteps, I don't think she's just taking a stroll."

A sudden guilty thought that he'd forgotten about Sam's physical self, Al gasped, "You, I mean your… are you all right?"

"I'm all right. The life support going in and out isn't at all comforting to see, but the vital signs are stable." Sam chuckled. "Now who's sounding clinical? I've been overhearing a conversation between her and Gooshie in the Control Complex. So, I tend to think she's coming to see about you."

Al hung his head, "Damn. Aww, Sam. Are you gonna blank out on me now?"

"No, I think not. Verbeena is concerned about you Al. The whole team is."

The image on the screen grimaced, and said, "It's time Al. She's an intelligent woman. I wasn't sure the secret would last anyway."

"Are you sure? I can feign depression … or something."

"No. I don't think that would work. Besides, the best way to convince her of that would end up with you in the MedLab beside me -- in a wrap-around jacket, babbling about your childhood. Let's give her some credit, okay? Here she comes."

Three soft knocks preceded Al's frown of agreement. Before he could respond, a slight crack formed between the door and the frame. "Admiral, its Dr. Beeks. I'd like to speak with you."

"Come in Verbeena. It's okay." Al said as he rose from the soft leather chair."

"How's…"

"Sam's fine. Actually I came to see about you. I'm not going to mince words, you know me better than that. Besides the security crew, there are only fourteen people in the Project, Admiral. We're… I'm concerned you seem to be spending a lot of time in Dr. Beckett's office, just sitting here alone."

Al pursed his lips trying to find a way to break the virtual ice. "Uh, well, I haven't exactly been alone."

"Al, I think you are avoiding what is becoming a matter of concern for everyone, and the future of the Project."

"Sit down Doctor. This is something you should see for yourself." Holding the chair for her and turning his attention to the monitor on the desk, Al said, "I could use a little help here Sam."

"Al, I'm concerned for your mental health. There may come a time when we will all have to face the possibility that Sam is gone. We may have to release his body as well. You haven't been to see him since the life support was necessary. Hiding in his office won't …"

"Hi Verbeena. Details of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Ha!" Sam's broad grin lit up the screen, "I've always wanted to say that!"

Dr. Verbeena Beeks, PhD's, MD's and other titles and initials following her name didn't do much to cushion her fall into the chair that fortunately Al had been holding available for her. "Oh, my God."

The smile on the familiar face, a twinkle in the green eyes winked at Dr. Beeks. "I Leaped Verbeena. I Leaped into Ziggy."

Louder and more forceful, she repeated, "Oh, my God!" Verbeena glared at Al, her eyes nearly popping, and her mouth formed a horrified 'O' when she realized that just a few days ago, she had doubted the Admiral and convinced him he had had an elaborate dream.

"Uh, can I get you anything Verbeena? Water? Coffee? Tequila?" Al stood behind the physician, his hands resting on her quaking shoulders.

"Are, …are you alive? And breathing… alive… in there?"

"Well, to tell the truth, I'm not really breathing. When it appears that I am, it's more or less an effect. Ziggy is quite human-like." With raised eyebrows, and a smirk, Sam added, "But I suggest that you do breathe doctor."

Dr. Beeks gasped and pulled in a deep breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Oh, my God."

Verbeena covered her open mouth with one hand, the other pointed at the screen, while she turned and said, "I'm so sorry, I doubted you when you needed my support most."

"That's quite all right Verbeena. To tell the truth, until I saw Sam again, I was doubting myself."

Needing a coffee refill, Al said, "I'll get an extra cup. Be right back" Al released the shaken doctor and exited out the door. He thought at the very least, Sam might want a few minutes of privacy with the Project physician.

"Are you all right Verbeena?" Sam tried to gently shake her out of her shocked state.

"I could ask you the same question." Verbeena's hands were clasped tight; her fingers interlaced together, the skin on her knuckles taut. Forever the professional, she asked, "Do you have any idea of the psychological implications of you Leaping into Ziggy?"

"No. Not really. And don't think I want to know. Do you?"

"Uh…" Shaking her head she continued, "No. I just wondered if you did."

Sam's smile turned into a soft laugh.

"I can't believe this, it's …it's unprecedented. Your body, what … how?" Verbeena sagged as more of the realization sank in.

"No one Leaped into my body Verbeena. But, as long as the life support is maintained, I should be ok. So no more talk of releasing any bodies, all right?"

"All right. Uh… no…. no more talk like that. Of course." Verbeena's breath was coming in gasps.

Sam continued to give the Project doctor time to digest what she'd just learned. "Ziggy has no …aura, or whatever it is that's Leaping …or trading places with me when I Leap. As much as she might never admit it, she's not human …or chimpanzee or …anything else living."

Sam looked up briefly, "Sorry, Ziggy, but its true"

"I said 'human-LIKE'"

"Yes, there is!"

"Fine, we'll discuss it later."

The door slowly opened and Al shouldered his way in holding two steaming cups of coffee. One of them had a distinct aroma of an additional ingredient. As he gently placed it in Verbeena's outstretched hand, he said, "Sorry Sam."

"That's all right, please, just enjoy it for me too. Funny not to even smell it though."

"I can imagine."

"Noo, you can't."

With something to take a hold of, the Project Doctor moved forward, closer to the screen, "Sam, do you feel a physical presence? Do you… uh, I don't know where to start." She put the hot cup down on the desk for fear of losing control of it completely.

"I know you probably have a million questions, many of which Al can answer for you. But, the only real feeling I get I'm having right now. It's time to go. Al can explain that too."

Sam's eyes turned misty, "Verbeena, it's really great seeing you again."

Tipping his cup in the monitor's direction, Al said, "Good night, Sam." Leaning against the credenza behind the chair where Verbeena sat, he winked at her as the screen went dark.

Still close to the monitor, and not sure how to react; like the psychologist or the medical doctor, Verbeena was slowly shaking her head from side to side. "Does he sleep? Or rest, or what?"

"Sam is spending time with STACI, trying to prevent a computer war. It's why he Leaped into Ziggy. I'll explain, but we have to keep it here, in this room."

"Of course, Admiral. That's understood."

Al grinned, rolled his eyes, then launched into an explanation that ended some time later with him exhausted, the coffee pot gurgling, Verbeena mentally rewriting her rules of psychology, and the monitor screen still dark. The bouncing red and blue ball had long since stopped its endless bounce between the screens edges.

Day Seven

"No, I don't think so STACI." Dr. Spencer laughed and continued to work at the keyboard. "Pinocchio wasn't a real boy, he was a character in a children's fiction story. Reference literature, about 1880 or so, it was written by, um, I think he was Carlo Collodi."

"Artificial life form. Puppet." The voice became more natural each day. "STACI is not a puppet."

"Not at all STACI. You're not like little Pinocchio. The point I was trying to make though, is that like the artificial boy in the story, you have to learn. And sometimes mistakes are a part of learning."

"Practice makes perfect."

"Yes, it does. Or, at least that's the intended result." Spencer grinned. "Experience is the key. You have to try to accomplish a new task, but if you do not succeed, you have to try again. Don't give up. Which is why Dr. Guerrera is making adjustments on your language protocols."

"Dr. G is angry."

"Absolutely not STACI. He just thinks there might be a mistake. He wants to fix it so you can learn faster."

Bradley Spencer pulled up a sock that was forever falling down around his left ankle. Right now neglect of his wardrobe was the least of his problems. Frustration was starting to sound in his voice, so to protect STACI from undesirable emotions, he tried a different tact, "STACI, why is program file Z-174 locked?"

"Z-174 locked."

"Yes, but why is it locked?"

"Program locked by directives."

"What is Program Z-174?"

"Program Z-174 is a visitor."

Dr. Spencer pulled back his head, tucked in his chin and asked the question again. "STACI, what is Program Z-174?"

"Program Z-174 is a visitor."

Dr. Spencer rubbed his forehead, then pushing up his glasses, he rubbed his eyes. Pulling his hand down he stroked his goatee. While shaking his head, he asked, "STACI, what is…." No, what wasn't going to work. STACI's limited knowledge of concepts took words too literally. "STACI, tell me about Program Z-174."

"Z-174 is temporary peripheral data storage."

"Peripheral data storage?" A frown of concern built a furrow between Dr. Spencer's eyes. He took off his glasses and ground the heels of both hands into his eye sockets then pushed out a heavy sigh. "What time is it?"

"The current time is sixteen hundred hours, nine minutes and thirteen seconds."

Spencer laughed a small chuckle, "Thank you STACI, but that wasn't a real question."

"STACI recognized the question as a directive."

"Yes, it was. I'm sorry. It just wasn't directed at you." Shaking his head, he got up and walked the length of the room then back again.

"Pacing. An irritating form of meditation exercised by Dr. Spencer when under undesirable pressure or emotional frustration."

"Where did you come up with that?"

"Dr. G told STACI."

Bradley laughed. "Ha! Tell Dr. G I said he snores like a jackhammer."

Returning to his chair, he returned to his original topic, "STACI, I'm concerned about Program Z-174. I do not know what it is, and think it should be removed."

"Program file will be removed when necessary."

"STACI, how many folders are in the Program file?"

"Two folders are in Program Z-174."

"Are they both … do they both contain data?"

"No. One is currently empty."

"Currently? Does that mean that it has contained data at some other time?"

"Yes, folder contains data periodically."

"What data periodically occupies the folder?"

"The visitor."

The squeak of double doors opening caught his attention. Dr. Hugo Guerrera entered the control room and said, "well, figure out anything yet?"

Spencer looked up at his co-programmer and said, "We have a visitor."

"We have a who?" Hugo glanced sound the control center, looking for a guest.

Getting up, and with a grin and a bow to the other man said, "I'm about to initiate an irritating form of meditation exercise."

"Thanks for the notice." He ducked as the taller, paler man threw a wadded piece of paper at him.

"You ain't heard anything yet. Payback's gonna hurt." With the pacing underway, he continued, "STACI says Program File Z-174 a temporary peripheral data storage. Is locked by directives. Will be removed when necessary, and, get this… it's a visitor."

"A visitor? What the devil does that mean?"

Spencer stopped in mid stride, "Ask STACI! We've been going around in circles."

Turning to the console, Hugo Guerrera addressed the computer, "STACI, please describe the visitor in Z-174."

"Good afternoon Dr. Guerrera. The visitor is a temporary peripheral data storage."

"See what I mean. She's way too literal. We really need to work on her concepts."

Staring at the monitor, he said, "Wait. Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Spencer walked over to the row of consoles.

"STACI, how did you address me?" He turned around to face his friend.

"Dr. Guerrera. It is a proper address of respect."

Spencer clapped Guerrera on the back. "Ha! You got it. That's great."

Shaking his head, he bit his lip and said, "But I haven't fixed it yet, much less reinstalled the index with my name."

"She's even rolling the R's right."

Each man stared at the other one. Seated at the console, Dr. Guerrera keyed in a command. "It is no longer necessary to deliver input by keyboard Dr. Guerrera. I am now capable of understanding voice delivered requests."

Dr. Spencer sat in another chair. "She's been referring to herself in the third person. She just said, 'I am.' And the inflection is practically normal."

"She's growing or progressing exponentially. I… I think we need to check on a few things."

"I'm already on my way." Drs. Spencer and Guerrera entered the core of STACI's Artificial Intelligence and found what they had never imagined: A frighteningly massive web of neural activity, generating its own network of electrical signals.

"She's paralleled."

"This is incredible."

"I can't believe it."

"Her database resources are huge."

"Now, things get interesting."

"Now, things get interesting."

Arm in arm, Al and Tina entered the Control Room. They leaned into each other and exchanged a friendly kiss before splitting off to go different directions.

Tina joined Gooshie at the command console, while Al slipped into the MedLab. Verbeena was right; it had been too long since he had visited Sam.

He saw the doctor standing in the window overlooking the sanctuary where she worked to maintain lives and sanity. He saw her smile, and a quickly upward curling finger beckoning him to enter.

With just his head inside the door, she said, "Well … tell me."

Al came in the small cramped office and closed the door. "We didn't talk much yesterday or last night either. He did say that STACI's team has discovered the neural net. He's spending a lot of time trying to work around their poking and prodding. I waited a little while early this morning, but he never appeared. I guess he's still working."

"I want you to get back in there. What if Sam comes back in and you aren't around?" Verbeena fretted around in the small space. "He needs personal contact Al. He needs people. He always has."

"Sam knows when I'm in the office. Ziggy can see me." Al patted her arm, "It's ok, I just shared lunch with Tina, and I'll be back soon. I just came by to…uh, like you said, it's been too long." He turned to look out the window, and tipped his head towards Sam with a quizzical look.

"He's stable. Seems to be better, maybe," Dr. Beeks, hugged herself, "or maybe I'm just a little more at ease with why he's like he is. I understand," she rolled her eyes and laughed, "I mean, I know why he's been, uh, vacated. Al, how long is this going to go on?"

The Admiral smiled, "It will last as long as it has to. Till Sam completes the assignment, till STACI is under control." He shrugged and spread his arms in resignation. "How should I know?" Al opened the door and they moved to Sam's bedside.

Al could hardly stand to look directly at Sam. His appearance reminded him to too much of his fathers last days. He was hooked up to life support, and despite young Al's prayers, it was never removed, and his father died. The machines used today were much different than in those days, but still Al couldn't shake the unease he felt. Sam seemed so helpless, pale and alone.

Dr. Beeks sat on a high stool, crossed her legs and propped her chin on her hands. "I did an EEG this morning."

Al's eyebrows raised in curiosity. "And?"

"The only recordable electrical activity in his brain is in the stem. It doesn't seem to vary, as I would expect. It's a steady, continuous wave. Like he's on hold or something." She uncrossed her legs, and grasped both hands together in her lap. "If he were in any other care facility, he would be declared terminally vegetative."

Al unfolded his arms and grimaced. "You know where I'll be." He gently squeezed Sam's hand and left MedLab.

Like other times Al had sat in the Hole waiting for the screen to flash to life, he was restless. What little Sam had been able to communicate yesterday, he had said that STACI wasn't reacting well to the adjustments. This was a little detail that he didn't mention to Verbeena. STACI's original AI programming had been moved to the background, offering very little input to the growing manic neural web. It was the false web that was determined to duplicate Ziggy. And since Ziggy refused to share her artificial intelligence, STACI went into a jealous rage to get any AI programming she could get. While attempting to bypass the web to install a firewall, Sam and Ziggy had been subjected to STACI's frightening temper. Ziggy barely managed to pull Sam out, then close the interface before STACI reached in with her pincers. Al worried about Sam now. He said he was going back in last night, with a limited amount of his capabilities, just the analytical-intellectual part. He'd have to use STACI's own devices to complete the processes. Whatever that meant. Sam didn't want to risk Ziggy's resource utility tools, and the increased interface bit size necessary to use them. Al had shaken his head in wonder. Al got the distinct impression it meant he didn't have any of Ziggy with him… he was on his own.

With each passing minute, then half hour, Al grew more concerned. He was puffing on cigars one after another till his throat felt raw. Stubbing out a smoldering stump, he pocketed the clip and lighter and stood up to stretch.

The screen flashed, then returned to dark in an instant, with only a single bright dot in the center. Slowly the dot faded into nothing and the screen looked like it had been for hours. Al remembered when the old TV sets did that. Not a good thing. It meant he wouldn't get to watch The Lone Ranger and Tonto.

Al sat again and spoke to a dark monitor, "Sam? Ziggy?" He reached up and tapped the top of the screen. "Are you in there?"

On the bottom left side of the screen a short upright bright line started to blink. "Uh, Sam? I don't like this at all. What's going on?"

On the screen a line appeared, the cursor moving to the right as the line grew longer. A series of blocks, dashes and digital symbols appeared.

Shaking his head, Al said, "I can't read this Sam, its just symbols and blocks. Sam? Ziggy? I need …" Al held his fingers poised over the keyboard as if that would help. "I need words Ziggy."

Al waited while the blocks and symbols repeated themselves. Al thought Ziggy had to be in serious distress for her to communicate this way. Ziggy was trying, but seemed to be having a difficult time.

Then the words appeared on the screen, painfully slow, one letter at a time.

MSG FROM Z 

"Ah, that's better. Ok, it's a message from Ziggy. I understand Ziggy. What's happening?

**SECURITY BREACH **

**DEFENSE CONTROL COMPROMISED**

**USE CMD CONSOLE ESC KEY. MUST CUT INTERFACE.**

**DR BECKETT IN STACI**

"Damn!" Al jumped out of the chair. It sailed backward and fell on its side to the floor in a loud rattling crash. Running through the corridors, Al was imagining the worst. If Ziggy had to cut communications in order to regain Security Defense Control, she would lose Sam in STACI.

Suddenly a frightening boom sounded and echoed throughout the Control Center. A column of intense light flashed over their heads, sending sparks flying over the table. Everyone either ducked down where they were or dove under the table or desk, anything to avoid the rain of fire that faded as it fell to the floor.

"What the devil was that?" Gooshie said around a mouth full of chips, while using his napkin to wipe up the remains of his drink.

Tina was at the console in seconds, checking on anything the limited amount of data would tell her. "I can't find anything! It's all gone Gooshie! The statistics are off the scale, and the main console is flashing red alarms."

Just as she was about to pick up the phone, the main security door opened and the Admiral entered the Command Center at nearly a dead run.

Tina stretched up her arm and pointed to the dark line drawn in the far corner of the Complex. "Al, look up there. It just happened."

Evidenced from personnel still cautiously crawling out from under the table, desks, and other devices used for cover, the Admiral said, "What was it Tina?"

Gooshie pulled a chair over to the corner, and standing on it still wasn't able to reach up to the dark scar on the wall, but he could feel the heat radiating from it.

"Admiral, uh, I think there's a problem. That's a burn. I'd say one of those lasers just went hot."

Al ran to the main console and Tina stepped aside. "Al, what's going on? What are you doing?"

"Ziggy, tell me something! ZIGGY?" The Admiral hit the ESC key on the main console keyboard, but nothing was happening on the screen that was flashing big red letters, ALARM, ALARM, ALARM over and over again. The screen was scrolling so fast some of the letters were only showing half of their height.

"I'm here Ziggy. Help me find Sam. Tell me where he is! Ziggy! You have to try."

Al's fists banged on the console cabinet, "ZIGGY! Where is STACI?"

"Admiral? Who is Stacy?" Gooshie was standing near the main console.

"STACI, she's another computer Gooshie. She's got Sam. And Ziggy is fighting to get him back. If I can't get a response from Ziggy, we may never find him."

The primary programmer pushed up his glasses and said, "Oh."

"Ziggy, I'm Admiral Calavicci. You've got to tell me. That's an order Ziggy. Tell me where Sam is."

"Al, what has happened?" Dr. Beeks was by Al's side.

"Verbeena, STACI has Sam, she won't let him go. Ziggy's fighting for him, but she has to tell me where he is. Verbeena, see if you can get her to…"

Another blast echoed throughout the Control Center sending sparks flaming across the Complex.

A security officer was hurriedly ushering everyone else out of the area at Tina's urging. The hot lasers could literally cut someone in half. "You too Miss."

"No! I'm ok here. Ziggy wouldn't fire a laser at her own Command Console. As long as we are right here, I think we are safe." Tina refused to budge.

"Tina," Al tried to take in a calming breath. "It's not Ziggy firing those lasers."

"Would someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Gooshie's glasses had fallen off when he ducked the last barrage of laser fire. Tina tilted her head and pointed her thumb at Gooshie.

"Yeah, what he said." A fist was on her hip, a foot planted firmly.

"Ziggy, this is Dr. Beeks."

"Verbeena, Ziggy said to use the 'Escape' key. I'm not sure what she meant."

"Ok Al." The physician tapped the 'ESC' key in a slow rhythm.

Al let Verbeena take some time with the supercomputer while he briefly explained to Gooshie and Tina, "A week ago Sam Leaped into Ziggy. He's there to help Ziggy save another AI computer, but now that other computer, her name is STACI… she doesn't want to let him go. Now, Ziggy and STACI are in a battle over him. Sam is caught in the middle of virtual tug-of-war for possession of his …of him. A part of him necessary to do the programming migrated into STACI. If Ziggy has to cut the interface to get control of defense systems again, Sam will be stuck over there."

Tina visibly swallowed. Gooshie blinked, trying to focus without benefit of his glasses.

"Ziggy, can you give us any information on where STACI is? I know Dr. Beckett didn't want any interference in the Leap, but Ziggy, you needed help with STACI, and now you need help again. Let us help you Ziggy," Verbeena pleaded. There had been occasions when Ziggy's personality needed some shrinking. Usually just talking with the eccentric ego embedded in the supercomputer was all Verbeena needed to do. Other times, arguing just ended up with Ziggy in a 'mood' for weeks.

"Ziggy, I understand you can't talk. Can you use the screen? Can you output anything? Where is STACI?" Verbeena tapped the 'ESC' key on the console.

The red ALERT screen flashed and scrolled so fast Gooshie couldn't follow the lines. He squinted at the monitor, but couldn't focus on the black lines that flew as the screen scrolled. "Dr. Beckett is in Ziggy?"

"Yes, Gooshie. Ziggy didn't evolve. She didn't lose her programming, she just moved over. She made room for Sam. And now Sam is in trouble again."

Al turned his attention to the monitor Dr. Beeks was concentrating on. "Ziggy? It's Al. I'm here Ziggy. Let us help you."

Gooshie and Tina slowly turned their heads towards each other, their mouths hanging open in stunned surprise.

"I think something is happening Al." Verbeena indicated the black lines. She encouraged Ziggy to keep trying, "I see something Ziggy. What is it?"

Blinking her eyes, Tina recovered quickly, "Let me try something." Tina squeezed in between Al and the doctor, keying something into the Command Console.

The black lines were getting wider and wider with every scroll of the screen. On each page that moved, the black lines replaced the red ALERT words till the red disappeared completely.

Al, Verbeena, Gooshie and Tina watched and waited. A black screen waited with them. After what seemed like an eternity Verbeena said, "Ziggy? Are you still here?"

Gooshie squinted at the screen. He saw a fuzzy white line appear at the bottom of the monitor. A few seconds later, another line flashed on the screen and moved over to connect to the first one. The lines were nearly half the size of the monitor, but without his glasses, Gooshie couldn't make out the next lines that flashed on the screen.

"Keep going Ziggy. Keep going. We can see it." Tina had keyed in a command to show output in graphics.

"Keep trying Ziggy. We'll try to help you, but we need you to help us." Verbeena's encouragement prompted another line to join, then another line popped into place.

"What is it? Some symbol?" Gooshie's face was mere inches from the screen.

"It's a five-sided graphic." Tina's long manicured nail traced the shape of the symbol on the screen.

Verbeena stood up straight and grinned as the Admiral announced, "It's a pentagon."

Lasers flashed, sparks flew, and a rain of fire fell over them. Tina's scream of fear echoed throughout the Command Complex as the group ran for their lives.

"Into the MedLab!" Verbeena shouted over the din of thunderous booms that sounded all around them. Gooshie tried to find his glasses, but Tina shoved him in front of her and forced him to move. Verbeena led the way and they made a dash between lasers that were now dancing all around the Control Center, slicing tables, cutting chairs, and anything that was unlucky enough to be in the way. Smoke was filling the room and some loose papers were on fire, being tossed around by currents made by the struggling cooling systems. Verbeena screamed in panic when a file cabinet right beside her burst into molten flames as she ran by it.

She was holding her left arm as she pulled open the MedLab doors and Gooshie and Tina ran in. Through the smoke and sparks she shouted at the top of her voice, "AL!"

"AL! Where are you?" Verbeena couldn't find the Admiral. "Oh, God."

"AL!" She let the door fall closed and ran back to the Command Console. Lasers flashed and buckled the floor behind her. "AL!"

Another alarm sounded its honking warning of fire retardant chemicals about to be released. Barely visible through the smoke strobe light warnings flashed a sixty-second countdown.

"Verbeena!" The Admiral came from behind a central processor cabinet. "Get out of here! Go now! The oxygen is about to be sucked out of here!"

"Al, I couldn't find you." Tears were streaming down her face, and fear clouded her eyes.

"Get back to the MedLab. I'm going…" Thunder drowned out what Al said. Smoke was getting so thick it was hard to breathe. It was too much for the environmental systems to handle.

"Going where?" The console beside them was rolling again. The same symbol was flashing on the screen faster than they could follow. The same five sided symbol rolling over and over, and inside the symbol were the letters: SB.

Admiral Calavicci pointed to the screen, "I'm going there. The Pentagon. That's where STACI is. That's where Sam is." Al ran to the security door, and he saw Verbeena run toward MedLab, then stumble inside. Coughing, the Admiral found a security officer still maintaining his post at the door.

"Get into MedLab! Now!"

"No Sir! It looks like the lasers have stopped Sir!"

"That's an order Corporal! NOW!" Al wasn't satisfied till he saw the young officer disappear into the Observation Level entrance. He keyed in the code and was outside in the darkened corridor. Rubbing his burning eyes, Al coughed, shook his head, and leaned his hands against the cool metal of the heavy security door. He could hardly believe what was happening where he used to find security. Straining to hear what he knew he wouldn't be able to, Al knew the lasers had stopped. That meant Ziggy had cut the interface link with STACI.

From inside, he heard the final long blast from the horn as the Control Room was flooded with fire retardant chemicals and the emergency pumps pulled out the oxygen.

"Hang on Sam. Hold on Ziggy." With a new resolve, Al ran down the corridor and swung around a structural pillar and into the stairwell that lead upstairs. He was on a mission of rescue as quickly as he could make it up the ten levels that buried Project Quantum Leap.

Admiral Calavicci was still panting while the low profile hybrid hydrogen sports car sped silently along the narrow highway. Briefly, Al wondered what the top speed record was for this model. On board programming held the car on course, freeing his hands to dial a number he had committed to memory.

Across the miles, a private line on a heavy oversized mahogany desk rang.

The man was almost out the door, and for a moment gave serious consideration to ignoring the sound of the phone. Not very many people had that number. His wife most likely, requesting a last minute grocery stop, or maybe she was tired and would ask him to pick up dinner. "Surprise me," she would say.

He dropped his briefcase in the middle of the doorway and draped his raincoat over it. The secretary's desk was neat and tidy, just the way she always left it when gone for the day. Typically, she answered calls like this.

His light colored hair had become sparse, his glasses had become thicker, but the rail thin physique had changed little over the decades. He groaned, tired after another long day, he picked up the receiver, "Hi honey. I was just out the door. What can I get for you?"

The Admiral grinned, "I need a ride to Washington." That was easier than I had imagined Al thought. "Uh, and thank you, honey."

Confused, he blinked and said, "I beg your pardon?"

"Senator, it's Calavicci."

"Admiral." The man sat, stunned at hearing the voice on his private line. Recovering quickly, he said, "Al? What's wrong?"

The car sped along the highway while Al rummaged through a duffle bag packed specifically in case of emergency. "Tom, Sam's in trouble. I need to get to DC ASAP."

"Where is he Al? What's gong on?" When silence was his answer, he continued, "I don't know why I even ask."

Al breathed in and said, "I'm sorry Senator. Uh, it's not something I can discuss now. Right now, what I need…."

"It never is, is it? All right, I'll get your ride. How soon do you need it?"

Al checked the GPS. "I'll be at the airfield in twenty-two minutes. And, uh, I need another favor."

The Senator slowly shook his head and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he had heard anything about his younger brother. About where he was, what he was doing. Sometimes it was hard to believe he was still alive. "Yeah, what?"

"See what you can find out about a project called STACI." Al spelled out the manic computer's full name.

"Do I need to be discreet?"

"Not as far as I'm concerned."

"All right. I'll see what I can get. How serious is it Al? Where is Sam?"

"I'll see you shortly Senator. Thank you." Al grimaced; hoping that time was on Sam and Ziggy's side.

True to his word, while Al quickly changed into his Navy uniform, he saw the sharp silhouette of the sleek F-18 roar onto the runway of the airfield.

Al smoothed out the lines of the uniform, and adjusted his array of medals. It was easier to get some doors opened if you looked like doors were opened for you. Retired or not, Admiral Calavicci sported an impressive command presence.

He threw in the rolled up small duffle bag and climbed into the cramped seat. A salute returned to the pilot and a crisp reply to his question, "Yes, big hurry."

"Yes, Sir," the pilots heavy drawl turned both short words into more than two syllables. Very soon the Navy jet was airborne, and darkness fell fast as it headed east, away from the setting sun.

Al's knuckles rapped on the open door twice as he stepped over the raincoat draped over something under it. At the desk Senator Beckett sat, his head down, holding the phone and speaking too softly for Al to hear. The Admiral glanced around the impressive office, remembering an alternate timeline. He preferred to stand. After the past couple of hours, he needed to be upright.

The Senator looked up, and with a slight smile acknowledged Al's arrival. At last the call complete, he stood and extended his hand. "Sorry. My wife... she's a worrier."

"Good to see you again Tom," Al grasped his hand and they shook. Each one with the strength of a man accustomed to his authority.

"When was the last time, that tour of the Project?" The Senator turned behind him and opened a cabinet door. "Sam wasn't even there." Taking out a crystal bottle and two glasses, he offered, "A drink Admiral?"

"No, thank you." Al waved off the alcohol. He could tell this wasn't the other man's first pass at that bottle tonight. It sounded like his tongue was getting thick.

"Oh, that's right. Sorry, I forget." Senator Beckett poured himself a generous portion and replaced the bottle and unused glass.

"Did you find anything on STACI?"

"Have a seat Al." Tom sat as he said the words, and held up an empty folder that had been on the desk. "What I found was a lot of nothing, dead-end leads, and one very mysterious silence. And this." He waved the folder in the air. "Its empty."

"I take it it shouldn't be." Al sat and wished like the devil he had a cigar. He was getting restless. The more time that went by, the more he worried about Sam.

Taking in a breath, Tom said, "No. It shouldn't be." He stared at Al for a moment and said, "years ago, when Sam first…" he took a gulp from his glass, "…disappeared… the only thing I could think of was it had to have something to do with that all mighty Project he …and you had been building. His dream-child supercomputer."

Tom tipped up the glass and emptied its contents. "I went home. I found everything, every paper, every scribble, every diagram and drawing I could find, and I put it in a box and then microfilmed it and put it in this file. Mom had saved everything her precious baby boy had ever written down. I remembered someone asking me about Sam's Project, and what it was. I copied everything to a data disc and hid it. I've kept it with me all these years. But, when you called, I thought of it again. The disc is still where I left it, but the film file is empty. Its all gone." The Senator held wide open the olive green hanging file, then let it fall clattering to the desktop. "I should have destroyed it!"

Al shook his head, "What was on it? Do you know? Who could have gotten it?"

"I don't know who got it." He over emphasized the word 'got.' "No one should have known it was here. It looked like a lot of doodles and scribbles to me. Diagrams, programs, blueprints with faces drawn on it. I don't know. Remember, I'm not the genius of the family, ya know." He was making an effort to correctly pronounce each word. "I don' know. It was prob…ly the very early visions of a brainaic kid, or an over-zealoush teenaged brain inventing what eventually became his…or your… whatever it is!"

"Ziggy. And believe me, Ziggy is Sam's… not mine."

The Senator pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes tightly closed. "Yeah, Ziggy. Hell of a name for a computer." He opened the cabinet behind him and poured himself another drink.

Holding up the glass, the Senator declared, "To Sam… where ever the hell he is."

Realizing he wasn't going to get any more information on STACI where he was, Al stood, "Thank you Tom. What you do have… or rather don't have, answers one major question we had. We have reason to believe that STACI is an attempt to duplicate Ziggy, with some rather unexpected results." Al believed the Senator wasn't listening to a single word he said, "Thanks again for the ride. I'll get back to you if I can." Al was making his way toward the door, picked up the coat and the briefcase under it and put them on the sofa by the door. "Take it easy Tom. You might want to call a cab to get home."

The Senator looked up, his eyes unfocused, "Yeah, call a cab. You tell Sham to call me too."

Al closed the door. He doubted there would be any cab called to this address tonight.

Rank having its privilege, Admiral Calavicci entered Security Gate 1 flashing his ID and a stern, determined look. Wandering around, peeking into various offices, and asking vague questions wouldn't appear very authoritative, so Al went directly to the Commander's Office, asked for the Officer of the Day, plunked down his identification and said, "Where is STACI?"

"Who?" The Marine towered over the Admiral.

"STACI is a what, not a who. And that's who SIR to you!"

Snapping to attention with a sharp salute, the young man replied, "Yes, Sir!" Returning his hand to his side, he corrected, "I mean, what Sir?"

"Don't give me that Mister. STACI. Where is she?"

"She? Who? I mean what Sir?" Confused, the young Marine's eyes searched for some assistance from nearby officers.

"Excuse me. Can I be of assistance?" A female civilian with multiple ID badges, pens and various instruments in a smock pocket approached the Admiral. "Sorry, I just overheard you say STACI. That's kinda hush-hush around here. I don't think they'd like to hear, uh, that word, tossed around lightly."

The Admiral turned, and with a relieved smile of appreciation said, "Thank you, yes. I'm here by the request of… uh," Al patted his chest pocket, then his hip pocket as if searching for a lost memo. "Uh, dammit, request of…"

"Dr. Guerrera or Dr. Spencer maybe?"

Al brightened, his eyes caring and thankful, "Yes, thank you so much. I've been looking for Dr. Spencer." Al glared and did his best to make a disappointed snarl at the innocent young Marine. Al knew he was teetering on the edge of credibility and hoped that the names he just heard would lead him to Sam.

"Well, follow me. I'm on the STACI Team. Of course, you'll have to be cleared through special security." The young woman turned and blithely continued to ramble on about nothing that Al understood. She assumed he was completely filled in on STACI's existence.

Once in the elevator, she pressed the button for Basement Level 2, then said, "I'm glad you're here to tell the truth. We've been hoping you got our message since this morning. Specialists like you are hard to come by, and honestly, something is definitely wrong. I'm really worried about her. She's something special, you know."

Al nodded in agreement, "Yes, that's what I've heard. I got here as soon as I could. I just hope its not too late." Honesty was usually the best policy.

"Well, if worse comes to worse, we could always shut her down and do a cold restore. I'd hate to do that. She's come so far so fast."

"No. That would not be a good idea." Al shivered. What would happen to Sam if they simply, and literally killed STACI's Artificial Intelligence?

Well, I nope not too Mr. Um…I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"Calavicci. Admiral Albert Calavicci. Please call me Al." He had to remind himself to keep his mind on Sam.

The elevator doors opened and they walked along a corridor that looked like it used to be a storage bin. She extended her hand and said, "Nice to meet you Admiral." She giggled then said, "I mean Al. I'm Crystal."

Al took her fingers in his own, bent slightly at the waist and lightly kissed her dainty hand. "Thank you for your assistance Crystal. I'd like to speak more with you, but I think STACI is in more immediate need." Al could feel his loins aching. Shaking his head slightly, he berated himself. Sam! Keep your mind on Sam!

She grinned, blushed deeply, and after reclaiming her hand, gently folded her arms under her ample breasts. "Here, now we go through the special security. My friend Hannah, um, the Security Officer will sign you in."

At a simple card key locked double door, Al signed his name in what looked like a reception guestbook, then under 'Purpose of Visit' he filled in 'STACI.' Hannah winked at him as she opened the door, and using an elbow, she poked at Crystal and silently mouthed the words, "He's an Admiral," as he entered.

Al rolled his eyes. What was it about a man in uniform that women can't resist? What is it about women that I can't resist? A grin spread across his face.

"Is this STACI?" Al found himself in a wide room with a long table of monitors and two cut-sheet printers.

"This is the main control room, yes. But the core is through there. She indicated a set of double doors with another card key lock. "I'll bet that's where Hugo and Bradley are. I'll let them know you're here." She checked a monitor and grimaced, "Looks like things have deteriorated more."

Left alone when she entered the core, Al took a chance and said, "Sam? Are you here? I'm here Sam, its Al."

Al heard some static noise coming from somewhere. He didn't see anything familiar like what he was accustomed to in the Project control room. He heard the sound again, followed by a loud pop, then a hesitant voice sounded, "Al?"

It was STACI's female voice, but instinctively, like any other Leap, Al knew it was Sam no matter what he looked like, or what he sounded like.

"Sam, I'm here. What do I do now? Tell me what I need to do." Al sat one of the consoles.

Static continued to rattle through a speaker on the console. "STACI locked program. Initiate upload link to Ziggy. Have to unlock program file."

"Upload link? How Sam? How do I start a link? Which program?"

"Zee… -enty four." The speaker squealed with a loud piercing whine. "Al, help me. STACI locking …"

SAM! I didn't get it all. Sam? What program?"

Just then the doors opened, and a tall fair-haired man entered, followed by Crystal.

He seemed anxious and nervous when he approached Al. "Its great to meet you, Mr. Calavicci. I'm Dr. Bradley Spencer. My associate, Dr. Guerrera, uh, Hugo Guerrera is attempting to stabilize the matrix." Assuming Al was the Specialist he was expecting; he thrust several papers and data chips from a table into Al's hands. "Did you get the faxes? I sent the stats from last night? These are from this morning. As you can see the AI is breaking down."

The Admiral decided to be upfront with STACI's programmer. "No, I didn't get any faxes. I'm not the Specialist you were expecting Dr. Spencer. But I am Admiral Calavicci. I'm sorry to come in here under pretense, but it's important I take look at STACI."

The co-primary programmer for STACI stared at Al. He seemed helpless, as if watching a beloved slowly dying and there wasn't anything he could do about it. And just the same, the frustration turned into calm but smoldering anger. "Get out of here. We don't need your interference." His pale features had a tinge of redness.

Dr. Spencer turned on his heel, but before he could take a step, Al put a hand on his arm. "Doctor please… I think I can still do something for STACI. And for Sam."

"What do you mean? Who the hell are you? And who's Sam?"

Al looked around. Crystal had gone back into the core with a floor tile puller, so they were alone, "Dr. Samuel Beckett. He determined what was wrong with STACI, and it's causing a cascade failure of her AI."

"Beckett? Sam Beckett? I remember him from MIT." Spencer had a far away look for a moment. "Lord, I thought he was dead. He just disappeared, and guys like him don't just drop out. How the hell does he know about STACI?"

"Six years ago, Sam built a successful parallel hybrid computer. We call her Ziggy. Ziggy and STACI had been interfaced together for over a week, but last night she broke the link and kept an important part of Ziggy." Al was trying hard to remember the facts as Sam had related them. "He said STACI has a web virus that's growing like a neural net. It's that net that's breaking down. You need to establish an upload link to Ziggy so she can unlock that program before she crashes. We believe that Ziggy can protect STACI's AI, but if it breaks down first," Al couldn't say 'Sam would break down.' He swallowed and continued, "Ziggy will lose what was interfaced with STACI." Just saying the words hurt. "And STACI's AI will continue to fail in a cascade fallout."

"Why didn't Dr. Beckett come? If there was any time we could use someone like him, its now." Dr. Spencer hung his head, and put his hands on his hips. "I thought we had it under control till early this morning. She … her programming went ballistic. She was more complex that I had realized. Her AI is out of control and I can't shut her down."

"Yeah, I think we got a taste of her tantrum earlier today. Dr. Beckett wanted to be here, but Ziggy is his primary concern."

"What do you mean, you got a taste of her tantrum?"

Al considered the man for a moment. He knew he had to have his and the other man's full cooperation if he hoped to recover Sam. "Some of Ziggy's, uh, programming has migrated into STACI, and likewise, some of STACI has found its way into Ziggy. She was in control of our defense systems for several minutes. Dr. Beckett managed to take back the control, but not before some damage was done. I don't think anyone was seriously injured, but we're still not sure about Ziggy."

"I'm sorry. What happ…"

A muffled hum sounded, with a whistle from an intercom, then a voice emitted from the speaker on the wall. "Brad, come in here. I got the Z File isolated, but she's rerouting. I doubt it will last."

"That's Hugo. Come with me Admiral." Bradley Spencer unclipped his ID Badge and swiped it down the card key reader. With an audible click, he was able to open the door.

Once inside the core, Al found himself in much more familiar territory. In the rare times he had explored Ziggy's core, Al had to admit to himself, he was actually exploring Tina, and the obscure maze of cabinets and hidden from view made it a fanciful game. He found STACI's network to be strikingly similar.

After innumerable twists and turns, they found a darker and shorter man sitting on a low stool examining a partially pulled out blade. He stood up when he saw Al. "Hugo, this is Admiral Calavicci. He believes he can help us with STACI. He's an associate of Sam Beckett."

Dr. Hugo Guerrera extended his hand, but discovering a bloody cut on his finger and an equally messy screwdriver, he quickly swapped hands with it, then wiped the offended appendage on his trousers. "Well I'll be damned. Dr. Beckett huh? Where's a genius when you need one?" Dr. Guerrera didn't appear to be the least bit amused.

"This is the controller for the database where program file Z-174 is housed. I've tried everything. I can't even open the probe. Nothing. STACI has it locked tight."

"Where is Z-174?" Al asked.

Guerrera pointed straight at Al. "Right behind you. That's were most of her AI is located. It's a critical cabinet. We have mirror discs, and redundant queues. Without this box, STACI is an expensive calculator. We never could get sufficient funding for an appropriate fall-back."

Al turned and some unknown force directed his gaze to the second server from the top. Placing his hand on the cool black metal, Al softly said, "Sam."

A voice broke his spell, "Where is this Dr. Beckett? I have a few questions for him." Dr. Guerrera stepped past Al and closed the cabinet door.

"He's, uh, you and Dr. Beckett can work together if you get that link established." Unsure of his meaning, Guerrera glanced at Spencer.

"The Admiral said we needed to establish an upload link with, uh, another AI computer. What was the name?"

"Ziggy."

"Yes, Ziggy, who could probably unlock the Z Program File." Dr. Spencer seemed much more favorable to cooperate with the Admiral than Dr. Guerrera did.

"Probably? No way." Using the screwdriver to point to the server, Dr. Guerrera said, "I believe that file is the root of all this. All I need to do is pull that server and purge the damned thing!"

Al was about to panic, "Do not pull that server Dr. Guerrera. I'm ordering you mister! Do not purge that program."

Mere inches from the Admiral, the darker, heavier man spoke calmly but threateningly, "You have no jurisdiction here Mister Calavicci. STACI's AI is failing and I'm not about to interface her with some unknown, probably doesn't exist AI that's…I don't know where."

"So why don't you?" Al glared back at him.

Shaking is head, "Don't I what?"

"Purge the damned thing." Al's breath was coming in gasps.

Trying to moisten his dry mouth, Dr. Spencer spoke, "Gentlemen, lets be rational. This isn't doing any of us any good. And certainly not STACI."

Taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Dr. Guerrera blinked several times and nodded his head in agreement. "Because, like I said, that's where most of her AI is located. I can't just purge one program. I'd have to purge the entire box. As you can see, we've made a major investment here."

"Dr. Guerrera, Program File Z-174 is not the cause of STACI's AI failure. The file entered her database to try and prevent the failure, but something else went wrong. STACI's neural net overran him," shaking his head, Al corrected, "I mean it overran the program. She locked it while he was working on the web bug in her matrix."

"You are confusing the hell outta me Admiral. What is this 'he' and 'him' crap? And what makes you think you can waltz in here and give orders?"

"Project Quantum Leap. Department of Defense Umbra Number 004-002-02-016, created and controlled by Dr. Samuel Beckett, and directed by Admiral Albert Calavicci. The latter would be me. STACI is interfering with a certified Government project." Al didn't feel the need to fill in extenuating circumstances.

"It's just a number Admiral. STACI has one too."

Al tried a different tact. "Dr. Guerrera, I believe if we… if you and Dr. Spencer can initiate the link with Ziggy, Ziggy can unlock Z-174. Once it is uploaded back where it belongs, then she can stop STACI's AI failure."

Dr. Guerrero breathed. He turned his head around in slow circles, squeezing is eyes closed. When he looked up, he stared at Dr. Spencer. Slowly shaking his head he said, "She's dying Brad."

"Yeah, I know." Dr. Spencer slightly turned his head, "Do you have the IP Address to connect to Ziggy?"

Al was momentarily stunned. IP Address? Was all this depending on a number Al had do idea about? He couldn't even call Gooshie and ask for the damned number!

"Uh, IP Address…let me think." Oh, come on! Al stuffed his hand in a pocket and for the umpteenth time was reminded he had no cigar. "Wait! Yes, it's the same as the Umbra number! Yes, the Umbra number. Oh, I could kiss you Sam! Wait! No… Yes. The last three numbers are reversed."

"Ok, over here. Around a corner of the row of cabinets, he found a workstation console. Just past the table, he saw a hole in the upraised floor and only Crystal's lower half could be seen lying on the floor. Her had and shoulders were somewhere in the darkness beneath their feet. In their own way, this team was just as desperate to save STACI as they had been to save Ziggy back home.

The taller, paler man sat at the console, started up a utility toolbox and glanced at Al to repeat the number.

Al said the numbers, carefully, one at a time. "Zero zero four, dot zero zero two, dot zero two, dot six one zero."

Bradley Spencer grinned at Al. "The Umbra number. Surely Sam Beckett is able to remember numbers better than that. Or has old age crept up on the best of us?"

"I think maybe he was considering me, and my memory."

Dr. Guerrera clapped Al on the back, "Lets just hope this works. And if it does, I want to see this Ziggy."

Al heaved a sigh, "You have an invitation."

Watching the activity on the screen, an attempt to connect failed. Then it failed again, and a prompt appeared, 'Connection failure. Try again or abort.' All three men stared at the screen. Al said, "Try again."

Dr. Spencer clicked on the appropriate key and somewhere some equipment buzzed and they heard Crystal shriek in alarm. She quickly backed out of the floor access hole and ran to the cabinet where program file Z-174 was. Dr. Guerrera was right behind her.

"Hugo, she's rerouted. She's locking out the entire blade assembly! The connection link won't be able to access. She'll …."

Guerrera unlocked the cabinet and grabbed the clamps holding the server secure. He pulled as quickly as he could. Suddenly his body stiffened his eyes wide and spasms shook his body.

"Hugo, no!" Crystal dove at him trying to pull him away from the cabinet.

"No! Don't touch him!" Al saw flares of electrical patterns forming around the body of Dr. Guerrera and violent spasms shake him. Al made the three steps between Crystal and the cabinet and literally tackled Crystal in her desperate need to separate Hugo from the electrical current.

Crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs, Al held Crystal and hid her view of Hugo as the current released him and he fell with a limp thud to the floor. His left hand twitched twice, and then he was still.

Panting, Al helped Crystal to her feet, but still held her close. Spencer knelt near his friend and partner, and gently felt for a pulse. Shaking his head negatively, his voice shaking in unbelief of what he needed to say. "He's dead."

Crystal buried her face into Al's shoulder and cried a loud wail. Tears poured out unchecked. Sobbing uncontrollably, she hugged Al tightly and barely managed to say, "There isn't that much current that could get into the housings. They're insulated!" She pulled a tissue out of her smock pocket.

Dr. Spencer spoke first, "She burned the insulation off. The current had a free path then. STACI killed him."

Al carefully walked Crystal past the body of Dr. Guerrera, his eyes still open, staring into nothing. He sat her in the chair at the console and turned the monitor slightly so he could read it. "The communications link has been established with Ziggy."

Dr. Spencer stood, "Yeah. My guess is STACI didn't want it to get contact with that server. So she tried to lock out the entire box, not just Z-174. She's determined to keep that program.

"Admiral, what is that program? Do you know?" Crystal still sobbed slightly. Her pretty eyes were getting puffy.

"Uh, its, uh…. It's some of Ziggy. I'm not sure what all of it is, but some of it is a very vital part. Without it, our Project …won't exist." Al noticed she kept her view away from the crumpled body.

Al patted her shoulder, and went to the cabinets. He did his best to avoid those eyes, staring into forever. "So, is the whole thing locked up now?" Al didn't know under what conditions would Ziggy still be able to unlock the program.

"I don't know." Bradley Spencer knelt and put his hands under Hugo Guerrera's arms and pulled him over to the far wall. Gently, he placed his friend in a comfortable position, closed his eyes, then, standing up, he took off his long lab coat and draped it over the co-programmer. He walked over to a phone hanging on a wall and dialed a four-digit number. Waiting for several seconds, he pushed the redial button, but nothing happened.

He hung up the phone, leaned on the wall and silently wept.

Admiral Calavicci stood nearby, his hand on his forehead, eyes closed. Taking in controlled deep breaths, he said, "Crystal, can you see the link? Is there any activity?"

Turning back to the screen, she answered, "No. But the link is still active. It's waiting for access. The server is pulled out of the cabinet, just enough that it's not in the network anymore. I'll check."

Behind the row of black panels, she pulled open a door. The wiring appeared to be a mass of controlled chaos and the scent of burned insulation was overwhelming. "Looks like the junctions are all fried. The other servers in here appear to be up. I'd have to run diagnostics."

"No, lets just move it. She cut this cabinet out already. She's rerouted everything to the backup leads. Any more and she'll cut her own neck. It should be safe just to relocate it in the same controller." Spencer had recovered enough to be decisive. "Admiral, can you get that cart over here?"

"Crystal, start unplugging all power and comm ports." Spencer hesitantly lifted up his hands and after a moment of thought, gingerly placed them on the handles that Hugo had been pulling on. He took in a breath, then continued to pull the server out of the cabinet. It was heavy, and by the time it reached the end of the slot, Al had the cart under it. With a grunt, they freed it from the tracks. He manhandled the back end around and gently placed it on the cart.

"Is it all powered down now?" Al remembered Sam's fear of being shut down.

"Yes. The programs are still intact. But, are inactive till we get it in the network again."

Crystal dropped a fresh power pack on top of the server and Spencer rolled it over to another cabinet near the interface monitor.

Al watched with concerned fascination. "Hurry, please."

His worried look prompted a tiny smile. She had recovered from her shock a great deal. "It won't take long." They both worked quickly, neither one saying words. Each one knew what had to be reconnected or attached to something else.

Left on the cart, with power cables, wiring and communication leads snaking out from another cabinet, the server where program Z-174 resided, slowly powered up. With a hopeful prayer, Admiral Calavicci, Dr. Spencer and Crystal were ready to connect to the network. After a few keystrokes on the workstation, the network communications were initialized. Then with a soft click, the switch was on.

Al quickly turned to watch the monitor. The message that had been, "waiting for access,' turned to 'access acquired.' A huge sigh of relief flooded the trio.

Whispered words, "Go home Sam," came from Al, his hand resting lightly on the black box, its backside singed with an incredible power that didn't quite make it to the critical point.

"I can't believe STACI would sacrifice her own AI to fry this server, just to keep control of one program." Dr. Spencer was shaking his head.

"Doctor, I believe you might find that STACI's AI is based on a virus. It's fragile, but insidious and will have to be purged. The original Artificial Intelligence is still intact, but has been muted in favor of the faster growing false neural net." The voice from the speaker in the monitor was unmistakable.

"Sam?" Al grinned in delight. Yes, the program was unlocked. "Sam, where are you?"

"I'm here. I mean I'm home… mostly." Sam's voice seemed shaky. "Thank you Al."

"Dr. Beckett? Samuel Beckett? Is that you?" There was a furrow between Spencer eyes. He pushed up his glasses, and said, "I'm Bradley Spencer. I was a year ahead of you at MIT. Man, where have you been?"

"Bradley. Brad Spencer. Yeah, it's been a long time. I've been… around."

"Are you all right Sam? Is Ziggy ok?"

A hesitation in reply made Al's heart skip a beat. "Sam?"

"Transfer is still in process. STACI is blocking some transfer ports. Brad, can you open the buffer encoder? Your send-receive ratio is out of sync."

"Yeah, sure." He nodded at Crystal who jumped into the chair in front of the workstation.

After several keystrokes, she let loose a string of curses to impress even Al. "No! It's no use. There is no access. She's removed it from the whole database. She's still controlling too much of the network."

"Sam, they can't open the buffer thing. STACI has cut off control of a lot of her network."

"That's ok. I'm starting a breakdown in the net. It will begin the cascade." It was STACI's feminine voice. "A firewall is in place that should protect the original AI."

"Sam, what's happening?" Was STACI pulling him back in again?

From outside the double doors, a loud banging sounded, then the unmistakable sound of gunfire. "What the hell?" Dr. Spencer dodged a splinter of the doorframe as it flew inward.

A dozen armed officers spilled into the control room with weapons aimed. Crystal screamed in fear, her nerves still on edge, Dr. Spencer paled yet a few shades more. Admiral Calavicci put his hands up for all to see.

One of the Marine security officers spoke, "The entire A Ring in section D is under attack, and the attack is coming from here."

Al hadn't thought about what possible effects STACI's fight to gain more and more control might be having on the surrounding area.

"That's impossible. This Project is totally independent of the rest of the whole complex!" Dr. Spencer had found his voice. "What is happening outside?"

"Security alarms are sounding, lights are flashing, Security doors are opening and closing. PC disc drives are seized up all through this section. The Secretary of National Defense is locked in the War Room!"

"Oh, my God." Crystal's hushed voice echoed in the silence. "Shut her down! Now!"

"NO!" Al and Brad's simultaneous declaration boomed across the room.

"Al, STACI is fighting. She's reaching out anywhere she can to save her neural net. She's searching for anywhere to dump her database. It's likely to get rough. Hold on." It was Sam's voice again. He was being pulled back and forth, STACI and Ziggy fighting in a literal battle of possession. Al wondered just how far that 'little sister' mentality would last. When would STACI not matter anymore, and how long would she keep ripping Sam apart?

"What's going on Dr. Spencer?" The lead officer spoke again.

Lieutenant, its hard to explain. I'm not really sure I understand either. STACI, the computer, is going crazy I think. But I believe we have someone somewhere else that's trying to control it."

"I told you this thing was going to go nuts! Just like they always do on TV! Damn!" The lights flashed, and the alarm sounded in the network core. Everyone was looking around confused, weapons not sure what or where an enemy was. Then the lights went out completely and the alarm stopped, leaving them in total darkness and startled silence.

A shout from the lead officer, "Weapons down!" Al heard the muffled sounds of movement, the quiet cries of fear behind him, and panting of panic beside him. "Thank you. Don't want any accidents in the darkness."

"Ohh Boy. Ok. Lets just wait… Everybody stay cool." Al felt like it was de'ja vu. "Sam? You still with us?"

Silence. "Sam?" Rolling his eyes, Al said, "STACI?"

Al jumped with an unexpected start when out in the control room a loud boom sounded. Then another and another. The broken down double doors couldn't stop the plume of smoke and licks of flame that lit the outside room. Quickly they would soon be overcome by smoke. Emergency lights were working in the control room, but environmental systems seemed to be non-existent.

Al turned and found Crystal wide-eyed, stunned and silent. Shock Al decided. He pulled her arm, stood her up to her feet and into Dr. Spencer's arms. Shouting orders Al said, "Everybody out of here! Now!"

He could see the bouncing shadows of soldiers making their way out. He directed Bradley toward the door, and could see him mostly carrying Crystal. Al turned to go, but caught a glimpse of the body on the floor. Nothing would harm him now. Al ran out and saw the flames were consuming the computers on the table. STACI had destroyed her own control center.

At the outer door, Hannah stood with her gun in her hand, guarding the door with her very life. Wide-eyed and alert, she cringed in sorrow when Dr. Spencer pushed a nearly catatonic Crystal into her arms. "Watch her."

A rumbling roar sounded from the hallway. The pounding boots of a dozen fire fighters in full regalia poured past them and quickly had the fire out. Fortunately, it was totally contained in the control room.

It felt like hours later, and after a steady stream of security officers and building inspectors trailing in and out, finally, Al was allowed back into the Network Core. He was glad to see the body of Dr. Guerrera had been removed. He wandered back to the same workstation where all the drama had started. Slumped at the console, Bradley Spencer sat, slowly keying in commands. Al put a hand on his shoulder.

"Please don't say you're sorry. I don't think I could stand another one." His words didn't interrupt his keyboard work.

Quietly, Al said, "This wasn't the intended outcome."

"Oh, not to worry Admiral. What you said should happen, did. STACI's original AI is intact. Her programming is still functioning. The damage is mostly just hardware, not software. The neural net is dead, or fragmented too much to function. There is still some residual static neural activity, but I'm sure we can purge it. Bit by bit, fragment by fragment, but we'll get it out." Brad set his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together and set his forehead on his hands.

"We?" Al was curious.

He huffed out a breath. Picking up his head, he realized what he'd said, "Yeah, I guess just me."

"Brad, uh… Our Project could use another staff specialist." Al hoped Tina could find a place.

His task still on the screen, Dr. Spencer renewed his diagnostics and maintenance. "No thank you Admiral. STACI is my project. I'm not sure what kind of budget I'll get after this, but she still has practical use. Her AI is promising. I'll just be more careful next time." He didn't look up. He continued working. The double doors still broken, and signs of smoke and the odor of flame retardant chemicals were still fresh. Al wondered how much of what was here, was also true somewhere deep under a mountainside in distant Stallion's Gate, New Mexico.

All at once, Al couldn't wait any longer. He gently patted Brad's shoulder, but couldn't find the words to say how he felt. Silently, he left the man with his work. Al glanced around the broken control room. Yes, soon it would be restored, just as Brad's Project would be renewed. Checking is watch, Al thought if he were lucky, he would be back where he belonged before dawn.

A few looks and murmurs followed him as he left The Pentagon. _'That's him, he kept the whole place from going up.'_ Al knew no one would ever know the truth.

"Tina, please. I have an entire staff. This is not necessary." Verbeena pleaded. Her left arm bandaged from the elbow to her wrist.

"Yes, it is necessary. Dr. Pritchard said you should rest, and if I have to sit on you, you will. Like you said, you have an entire staff. You have no excuse." Tina fluffed the pillow under the Project physician's head.

Afraid she would have more of her words used against her, Dr. Beeks pouted and let Tina fuss over her. "Have you heard from Al yet?"

The redheaded systems specialists tucked the green clover-shaped pillow against her stomach and sat on the edge of Verbeena's bunk. "No, not yet. But under Lockdown, I don't think we would."

Realizing what she said Verbeena sighed, "Oh, that's right." She closed her eyes and let her head rest against the stack of pillows behind her. "I forget how strong these pain killers are. I'm getting sleepy."

Standing up, Tina added the clover to the collection of colorful fun-shaped pillows. "I think you should be in MedLab. Burns are awful."

"It's not that bad. Just hurts." She snuggled down deeper into the layers of fluff. "Thank you, you're a wonderful nurse."

"There's some orange juice in your cooler, and if …when they bring in some food later I'll check and see if you're awake." She turned down the brightness of the battery-powered lamp on Verbeena's bedside table. "Try to get some rest."

Verbeena hardly heard the click of the door closing. The whole team had been in a terrifying experience, and now they were cleaning up, removing scars, and healing in more ways than in a physical sense. She felt a momentary twinge of guilt at not being in the Command Complex offering her support and helping hand before drifting into a deep sleep, unhindered by dreams.

Tina walked slowly along the corridor, the bare bulbs moving past her as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. She counted each light as it streamed past, a brilliant spot with a mission all its own. A simple task: light this area till I'm turned off. In Tina's frightened and exhausted mind, nothing seemed simple anymore.

She heard the clanging ring of running footsteps on metal behind her. She stopped, listened, and backtracked only to find Al panting and running out of the stairwell.

"Tina!" Al took her in an embrace, and while hugging her tight he said, "Tina, Sam? Is Sam ok? Did he Leap? How is Ziggy? Is everything ok?"

"Oh Al. I'm so glad you're home." Tina briefly returned the hug, "You look terrible." Still firmly holding Al's hand, they continued along the corridor at as fast a pace as they could both manage.

"I'm tired, I'm … I'm scared Tina. What happened last night?"

Outside the security doors she filled in the Admiral on the nights events. "Just after you left, the lasers quit, and the fire was put out. When we got the all clear, it was a little while before anyone felt secure to go back in." Al listened intently. He could see her lithe body shaking.

"All the laser's, the colorful lights, everything. It was just …" Tina's eyes filled with tears. She tried to cover her trembling chin with her fingertips. Al used his own sleeve to gently wipe her cheeks. "They were all gone. It looks like Ziggy is… is…" Sniffles drowned out her words. Al didn't need to hear them as she collapsed into his arms, uncontrolled sobs spilling out as if they'd been held back far too long.

Al sank slowly to the floor, holding her close, his face was buried against her neck, he whispered softly into her ear. "Its all right baby, I'm here. I'm here now. We'll get her fixed up. Ziggy will be fine, you'll see." Al had no idea what would become of Ziggy now. And worse, what happened to Sam?

"Oh, Al" Still more she sobbed. Al held her close sitting on the floor. She was tucked between his knees in his lap, till at last she was able to continue. Wiping her eyes with her hands, Tina spoke softly, "Gooshie and I checked everything. We were at the command console when it came back up. It was Ziggy I think, she said, uh, on the monitor that she had an interface link with that, uh, STACI and that Dr. Beckett was coming home. The laser started firing again, just one though. Then one of the monitors blew, and we ran out of there so fast Al."

"Yeah, I'll bet." Al stroked her hair. Mentally he tried to compare events as they occurred in both locations.

Tina had better control of her emotions now, so Al gently urged her to get up. Helping each other, they stood, shakily, and Al picked up the phone. "Its Al and Tina."

"Yes, sir." Slowly the door opened to reveal the Command Center. The roar of the power generators seemed normal, the lighting just as bright, but in some way it was all muted. The swirling colorful lights that seemed as much a usual part of Ziggy as Al's cigar made their absence all the more noticeable. The dark screens on all of Ziggy's Command Consoles were an eerie sight.

Tina found Gooshie sitting at a desk. His head was down, mercifully unaware of their presence. Al shook his head, "Let him sleep."

The Admiral stood before the Command Console, and cautiously, and with much trepidation gently tapped the ESC key. "Sam? Ziggy?" Al was almost afraid to take in a breath. "Are you here?"

Suddenly the monitor popped up to brilliant colors and Sam was on the screen, his arms folded casually across his chest. "Oh God!" Tina shrieked and jumped up and down, tears of sorrow quickly turned to drops of joy.

Al sagged with relief. He was holding on to the cabinet, his knees shaking. "Sam! Oh boy, Sam. Are you ok? Is Ziggy ok? Oh, Lordy Sam. You scared the wits out of us."

"Dr. Beckett! We thought Ziggy was… was…" Tina arms were up, squeezing the sides of her head.

"I'm sorry Al, Tina. We have very limited resources here, so we had to wait till you got back home Al. Ziggy is stretched too thin right now. I guess the Powers That Be are giving Ziggy and me just enough time to say thank you, to all of you."

"What's going on?" Gooshie had been roused by Tina's outburst. His eyes wide, blinking behind his retrieved glasses, "Dr. Beckett? Dang! You really are in there. Uh, Dr. Beckett can you tell me, uh, what…"

"I'm sorry Gooshie, I don't think I have that much time. I'd love to fill in all the details, but…" Sam grimaced and hugged his arms tighter. "Al, thank you for your help. Gooshie and Tina, Ziggy is grateful." Sam looked up, the way Al came to recognize as an exchange between Sam and Ziggy. "You're welcome Ziggy."

Al smiled. " Tell Ziggy we're glad she's ok." Al leaned on an elbow on the cabinet. The toe of one shoe was at a right angle to the floor.

"Al, um, Verbeena… where is Verbeena?" Sam was concerned.

Tina responded, "She has some burns from the laser's, uh, from the effects of the lasers. Not a direct hit! She'll be fine. She's sleeping now."

"That's good." Sam seemed to breathe in a deep breath and release it slowly. With a grin he stared out of the screen at the trio standing in front of the monitor. "I think its time." He closed his eyes for a moment, "Good to see you. Ziggy is going to need some recovery time. Be gentle Al."

Before Al could respond a bright blue-white light filled the screen and when it died away, the screen was once again black.

"Oh, my. What was that?" Tina was on the right side of the console.

"That's what it looks like when Sam Leaps." Al stood up straight. "At least from my perspective when I'm in the Imaging Chamber."

"Wow." Tina's eyes were bright, the tears were nearly dried, but her cheeks were still red. Al thought she was gorgeous.

The Command Console screen came back on with a graphic Al didn't recognize. Tina quickly checked another console. A grin slowly became a wide smile, "Its comm lines."

Gooshie watched the database monitor come to life. "Ziggy's coming home."

/Solution/

/Purge/


End file.
